#even though i had a professional clean my apartment it still feels dirty

[cinewhore]

first night in new place and i want to crawl out of my skin

[marvelouslizzie]

No One Else Matters

Summary: Things between you and Bucky Barnes have been going great until an Avengers dinner party reminds you of that one night you spent with Steve Rogers. Now you are afraid that the meaningless past hook-up might jeopardize your future with Bucky.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, secret relationship, alcohol consumption but no one is drunk, semi-public sex, unprotected p in v (on birth control and clean), begging, pet names, dirty talk, mentions of past hook up with Steve Rogers, eavesdropping, no mention of y/n

A/N: Another random idea that turned into a one-shot thanks to my amazing friends. Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. Also, some lines belong to her because she helped shape the story and I appreciate it a lot!

This story isn't any form of Steve Rogers hate. I just wanted to write a story like this and it wouldn't work with anyone else besides Steve. If you don't want to read a story where Steve is a past hook-up that didn't work out well, please stay away from the story.

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission. 

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me. I would love to answer questions or start a conversation as long as it doesn't include any kind of hate.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

Coming to this Avengers dinner might have been a big mistake. Essentially you were looking forward to this night because it had been a while since you saw your co-workers. Some are more like friends than co-workers, but working for SHIELD keeps everyone busy. Small events like this help people to get together, catch up and maybe plan other stuff for the future, but tonight feels somewhat different.

You were enjoying yourself until you saw Bucky and Steve casually chatting on the other side of the room. That doesn’t happen very often and it reminds you of things you'd rather not think about. Things that happened years ago. Like that one time, you hooked up with Steve. It was buried so deep into your memory, you simply forgot about it and it’s not like you see Steve that often. Occasionally, his team asks for your help and you try to do your best. And you have been nothing but friendly to each other since that night. You remember him taking it pretty well when you said you’d rather stay friends with him. He probably wasn’t looking for a relationship anyways.

It was before everyone found out HYDRA was nesting inside SHIELD for years. He was simply the golden boy. The first Avenger who unexpectedly returned. A savior. Everyone was in awe of him and tried to be their best version. It felt like a fairytale came true.

The problem is whenever people make an idol of someone expectations go over the roof. And when you meet that person, see what they are like up close, you just notice he’s just like anyone else. Even though they didn’t do anything wrong or bad, it still feels somehow disappointing.

He was different than what you expected him to be. You noticed that pretty quickly and decided to keep things professional. It worked out amazingly until… now. You look around, trying to calm yourself down, keeping that memory to yourself because this is definitely not the time to bring it up.

**

When the dinner finally starts, it turns out to be a good distraction. You chat with whoever is around you about recent missions, the latest gossip, and things SHIELD is planning to do in the near future. But your eyes keep wandering towards Bucky, who is seated across the table. It’s a huge relief to see Steve and him aren’t seated together or even close to each other. Everyone knows they used to be good friends, but that’s not the case anymore. Since Bucky is back to himself and started to work for SHIELD, things went downhill for their friendship. They slowly drifted apart.

You try hard not to glance back at him again, but he’s looking at you. That makes things even harder. You notice how his lips form a small smile whenever your eyes meet and how he tries to play it off as something he did because of his conversation. But you know his smile is caused by you and even though you don’t want to accept that, it melts your heart a little more.

After the dessert is served, people start to focus on their drinks more. Different groups are forming, and when you want to take check on Bucky, he quickly tilts his head to the right, signaling you to leave the room and meet him. You look around to see if anyone noticed, but no one’s focus is on you two. 

You do nothing but watch him discreetly walk away first, without waiting for an answer. He knows you will follow. And that’s exactly what you do: you place your empty glass on the counter and leave the room as subtly as he did. What you don’t notice is that someone actually has been watching you very closely.

You have no idea where Bucky went exactly, so you start to wander around, trying to guess where he’d choose to hide until he grabs you with his arm, pulling you inside an empty room before quickly locking the door.

“Bucky!” A half-yelp leaves your lips, but it’s muffled by his hand.

“It’s me,” he whispers against your ear before he starts to kiss your neck sloppily. “Relax.”

He doesn’t waste any time. His hands are everywhere on your body: grabbing your breasts over the clothes, squeezing your ass.

“I missed you.” His breathy whisper gives you goosebumps. 

“Oh, I missed you, too.” You grab his face with both of your hands and finally kiss him properly. He happily sighs and lets you take control. His lips are soft, tasting like bourbon, which surprises you because he is usually a beer kind of guy. Maybe he decided to try something different tonight since he isn’t the one paying. 

That reminds you of the party and everyone inside. Including Steve Rogers. Bucky’s ex-best friend. And that make the anxious feeling in your gut returns. You need to tell him about what happened between you and Steve. Even if you’re afraid that it would change everything between you two. But you aren’t ready to lose him. Not when you’ve just started to realize how strong your feelings are for him.

He doesn’t fail to notice the shift in your mood. You aren’t as present in the kiss as if you have something on your mind. He stops kissing you unexpectedly, making you give him a confused look.

“Are you okay?” He sounds genuinely concerned.

You take a deep breath. Maybe it’s just better to tell him now and get it over with. What’s the point of delaying the inevitable?

“I gotta tell you something.”

You see how his concern grows even more. His expression is serious and full of worry.

“Do you want to break this off? Is that what it is?” 

God, the way he asked that question just hurts something inside you. He sounded so broken, so afraid.

“No, no! Of course not.” You quickly clear the air, leaving no space for any kind of misunderstanding. “But you might wanna break things off with me after I tell you… this.” 

You can see how your words confuse him. He squints, trying to understand what you are talking about and coming up with a reasonable explanation. You know whatever he’ll think about won’t be even close to the reality, but you didn’t expect his response either.

“Are you pregnant? Is that why you are nervous?” His hand caresses your cheek as he asks you. “You know I wouldn’t leave you for something like that, right? We can do whatever you want. It’s totally up to you.” 

No, you aren’t pregnant. That’s not even a possibility. You’ve been on birth control even before you two started to have sex. Still, hearing his soft-spoken words makes you melt inside. 

“No, baby, I’m not pregnant.” 

You both take a breath after eliminating another possibility. He looks at you fora few seconds, trying to decide if he should say it or not.

“Is it about you dating Steve?”

Words can’t describe how surprised you are. Questions flood your mind instantly. How much does he know? When did he find out? Who told him? And dating? No, you definitely did not date Steve Rogers. God, you have so many questions to ask. You don’t know where to start. 

“You know about that.” It comes out more like a question than a statement. The shock is so clear in your voice. 

“Of course, I know.” 

“How? When?” The questions come out one after another and make him smile a little. You stop yourself from asking even more and decide to make one thing clear. “And I did not date him. It was a one-time thing.”

“Oh.” He sounds surprised. Maybe he thought it was more serious, but if so why didn’t he bring it up before?

“When did you find out?” You have to know. 

“Not so long ago.”

“Who told you?” 

“Sam. He thought there was some kind of tension between you two, but I couldn’t see it. So he explained.” He doesn’t sound like it bothers him much, which is relieving.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I could ask you the same.”

He’s right. He can ask the same question. Your answer is simple, though.

“I actually forgot it happened.” Is he really smiling? “It wasn’t that memorable to me.” 

“That bad, huh?” 

You can’t help but laugh. God, you love him so much. You were worried sick about how he would react and here he is joking about it.

“Do you want an actual answer?” You finally ask. 

“Yeah, sure.” He doesn’t seem to mind.

“It was okay.” 

Now it’s his turn to laugh. “So it was bad.” 

“Like I said, not memorable.” You choose to repeat. You don’t wanna disrespect him that much, but you don’t even remember much about it. That was one of the reasons you wanted to stay friends anyway.

“Doll, it’s fine.” He finally decides to answer you seriously.

“So you don’t mind?” 

“It was way before us. It’s not my place to judge you for it.” 

That’s a huge relief. You were so worried he would just choose some kind of bro code over you but no. He chose you. You breathe out with a smile on your face.

“And if someone is gonna get judged for their past, it’s not gonna be you.”

You instantly frown because you understood immediately what he meant by it.

“That’s not the same thing. I chose to hook up with him. You didn’t choose to get brainwashed.”

“Yeah, of course, but I am the one who killed those people.”

“Bucky, no.” You touch his chest, trying to comfort him without realizing it. “Don’t go there. Please. That’s not a fair comparison.” You want him to be free of this guilt. He’s trying to redeem himself so hard, it has to end somewhere.

“Fine.” He finally accepts it. “I don’t care about your past. I only care about your present and future. Is that better?” 

“Yes, it is better.” You wrap your arms around his neck and close the distance. “You are always so forgiving, yet you are so harsh to yourself.”

“As long as you are mine, I don’t care about anything.” 

That does it. An unexpected jolt of arousal overwhelms you. Suddenly, you don’t feel shy anymore. 

“Can you…” You try to collect your words. “Can you fuck me like you did the last time?” Asking that out loud feels a little weird. Maybe you should’ve drunk a bit more.

You watch as his eyes widen in response. Oh, he wants that as much as you do. No need to feel shy.

“Which position exactly?” He sounds so cheeky, but you can see his question is genuine. He needs additional info because it wasn’t a one-and-done.

“Against the wall.” You bit your lip, remembering how good it felt. So rough, yet so full of pleasure. You can’t help but shiver when you remember that orgasm.

“Fuck.” He surpasses a moan. “We have to be quiet, doll. Can you do that for me?” His voice is really low.

You eagerly nod in response. You aren’t sure if you can actually do it, but you will try your best if he’s going to do what you asked for. 

“God, I love you so much.” You can’t hold yourself back anymore. Hearing those words from him sparks something unstoppable inside you. Grabbing him by the face, you crash your lips against him. 

“I love you, Bucky.” You keep kissing him. “So much.” Your hands move south, unbuckling him as quickly as possible. 

Your movements are rushed but not sloppy. Like you did this a million times before. It feels familiar, but it doesn’t change how much you need him. Urgently. And he doesn’t seem to mind that your act as if you are in a hurry. When you finally unbutton his pants, they pool around his ankles, and that’s when he decides to lift you up. His hands stay under your ass while he presses you against the wall, your dress already curled up around your waist. 

“Are you ready for me, doll?” He asks with that voice he uses when he’s really aroused. It turns you on even more and you didn’t know that was possible.

“Yes.” You want him inside you so much. You need his lips on you. “Please, Bucky, I need you.”

“You do?” Oh, youknow this tone too well. He loves to tease you and make you talk more about what you want, and it’s always so rewarding. So you don’t hold back.

“Please, fuck me, I need your cock so badly.” Even though it’s dimly lit inside the room, you see the shift in his eyes. Your words are feeding some kind of primal need inside him. “I need you, baby, please. I’m so wet.”

“Let’s see if that’s true.” He holds you with one hand and aligns himself to your entrance with the other. You shouldn’t be surprised by how strong he is, but every time he manages to astonish you. He doesn’t even struggle to carry or hold you. When he finally thrusts inside you, a loud moan escapes your lips. The stretch is so fucking delicious. “Shh.” 

“Sorry, sorry.” You quickly try to apologize. “It just feels ssso good.” A low moan follows your words.

“You know I love to hear you, doll.” He starts moving. “I love how you always beg for more.” His free hand goes to your head, pushing a strand of hair back so he can see your face better. “But this time we need to keep it quiet. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“I’ll be good, I promise.”

That makes him smile. You wrap your hands around his neck again, wanting to be close to him. That’s when you both hear a sound really close to you. So close that you feel like it came right at the door. You both still for a second, listening to find out if someone is outside, but there’s no more sound. So that noise is long forgotten in a minute.

You don’t even care if someone is outside. You don’t care if someone hears you fucking. Bucky Barnes loves you. No one else matters. Your lips clash against his. It’s such a sloppy kiss, but you love every second of it. His hand moves to your neck, holding you in place as he starts to pound on you.

“Is this how you wanted it?” He keeps asking, wanting you to speak, but you can't. “Is it that good you went speechless?”

You nod eagerly.

“Come on, darling. Use your words.” He’s moving relentlessly, taking your breath away with each stroke.

“Yes.” You finally manage to say. “Oh god, yes.”

“Yes to what?” He taunts you. “Is that what you wanted or is it that good?”

“Both!” You say louder than you intended, then you remember you promised to be good and you lower your voice. “Yes to both!”

“Good girl.” His flesh hand travels to your neckline. He quickly pushes the straps of your dress down more, finally revealing your breasts. You aren’t wearing a bra, thanks to the padded dress. “God, look at you.” He marvels at you. “Such a pretty little doll. All mine.” 

His mouth latches on your right breast, sucking and biting it while he keeps moving. He knows how to use his mouth well everywhere. It makes everything so much better. You can feel that pleasure starts to bottle up, your abdomen tensing.

Oh, he truly knows how to get you there. He knows how much you love it when you two climax together. It feels heavenly… like you are in your own little world and there’s no one but him there. Nothing else matters. As your legs start to shake with overwhelming pleasure, you imagine going back inside, talking to others while his come is dripping out of you. No one would know what you two were up to. Not a single soul. It’s your little secret. The thought makes you moan a little bit louder. Your hands grip hard on his shoulders. 

Bucky moans right next to your ear. “God, you feel so good.” His hands are gripping hard on your ass. “I wish I can stay inside you forever. I don’t wanna move. I don’t wanna go anywhere else. I just wanna keep fucking you, until you beg me to stop.” Does he know what his words do to you? Does he notice how it amplifies your orgasm? Or does he just say whatever he wants to say? “I’m gonna come.” He warns you. “I’m gonna come, baby. I’m gonna come.” 

You ride your orgasms together, as he empties himself inside you. His head falls on your shoulder while he keeps holding you. His lips press against the crook of your neck. While you keep taking deep breaths, you can feel his heart racing. 

“Are you okay?” He asks while moving away enough to take himself out of you.

“Okay?” You question as he gently puts you on your feet. “I feel amazing.” 

You lift yourself on your tiptoes and give him a full wet kiss. 

“Now I believe you.” He gives you a little smile that only makes you want to kiss him again.

“I’ll be louder when we go home so you won’t have an ounce of doubt.”

“Yours or mine?” His question comes instantly.

“I don’t care.” You really don’t. All you want is him. Where, when, and how are just details.

He helps you shape your hair back to normal while you pull the stripes up. Your underwear is a mess and you are dripping out already. Bucky takes a napkin out of his pocket and kneels in front of you. He gently pushes the serviette between your folds, cleaning you up enough so you can go back inside. 

“Thank you.” You love it when he takes care of you like this. “But you know that won’t be enough. I will keep dripping all night.” 

“I’m counting on that.” You can see on his face how much that thought excites him. “Keep dripping onto your underwear while talking to others. Remember what we did here. Imagine what we will do later.” He stands up while you fix your dress and you realize that you can’t wait to leave this party already.

“You have such a dirty mouth. I love it.” You grab his face with one hand and just force him to kiss you. Not that you can actually force him to do anything, but he lets you anyway. “Come on. Let’s go back.”

**

It’s been a while since you returned to the party. Everything seems normal. No one even realized you were absent. No one is suspecting anything. That encourages you to look around for Bucky. When your eyes meet, he gives you a teasing smile while casually chatting with Sam.

The whole night you didn’t say a word to him. Not around other people. But you don't see any reason to keep avoiding him. Everyone knows you two are friendly. So you decide to walk over and chat a little.

“Oh, look who remembered us!” Sam jokes as soon as he notices you.

“Hello to you too, Sam.” You don’t mind his teasing. “Good to see you missed me.”

“Hey.” Bucky raises his beer bottle to casually greet you. He probably got tired of the bourbon.

“How are you, fellas?”

“Oh you know, missions and drinks. Same stuff,” Bucky answers your question. 

“Nothing new?” You tease him, just to see how he would react.

“Nope. Just little old me doing the same things.”

“Really, I keep telling him to go on a date or something but no. He prefers this misery instead.”

You try to surpass a smile forming on your lips, well aware of the exact reason why he’s declining the offer.

While you’re staring at each other, Sam notices Steve on the other side of the room and raises his hand. 

“Hey, Rogers!”

That’s definitely the last thing you need tonight, but there’s no way you can stop Sam. Steve joins your group in a couple of seconds, but for some reason, he looks… kinda miserable.

“You alright, man?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He absently answers. “I’m fine. Feeling a bit under the weather.”

“Maybe that super serum is finally wearing off.” Sam jokes and it manages to make Steve smile for a second.

“How are you all?” Steve asks while looking at the whole group, but his eyes stay on you for a bit longer than the rest.

“Oh, we are fine. We were talking about the lack of Mr. Barnes’s dating life.”

God, he isn’t going to let that go, is he? 

“Speaking of dating…” Sam continues while taking his phone off. “I met this guy the other day and he’s perfect for you!” Is he talking to you? He shows you a photo of this blonde guy who honestly looks alright, but he’s practically a stranger. “He’s a good guy and he fits your type. I can give your his number if you want.”

“What the fuck, Sam?” Your response makes the rest laugh. “You are playing matchmaker now?”

“I mean… someone gotta do it and I was hoping you would find someone to return the favor for me.”

You look at Bucky just to see he’s kind of enjoying this while Steve looks thoughtful for some reason.

“That’s definitely not my type.”

“Really?” Sam side-eyes Steve for a second to see his reaction, but it’s like he already knew that. 

“And I am already seeing someone, so…”

“Wait a second!” Sam sounds surprised. “You are seeing someone? Since when?”

“Why are you so surprised? You thought I would inform you about my love life or something?” Bucky is laughing quietly on the side, and Sam looks a little uncomfortable.

“I don’t know. I thought you were single. You are already off the market, huh?”

Bucky subtly nods to his last comment but doesn’t say anything.

“Yeah, it seems so.” You put your drink on the nearest surface and stretch your neck a little. 

“Tired?” Bucky asks this time.

“Yes. I’m thinking about leaving. Maybe I should call an Uber or something.” You make a move to take your phone out.

“Actually… I was considering the same thing. I can drop you home, you can save up the money.”

“Really?” You didn’t expect him to offer to leave with you. Usually, one of you leaves first and the other follows, but maybe after tonight's events, he decided that there’s no reason to hide anymore. “Sure, that'd be great.”

You see Sam rolling his eyes. “There go hours of effort.”

“You wanted to leave before?” It’s obvious you are talking to Bucky.

“No, not really, but he assumes that and tries to talk me into staying every time.” You start to laugh. It’s not hard to imagine why Sam thinks he’d rather be somewhere else.

“Sorry, Sam, but we are old. Apparently we need more sleep.” You are mocking yourself and Bucky at the same time, wondering how he’ll react.

“He is old, but you… not so much.”

“My soul is old and that’s enough.” You raise both of your hands and wave a goodbye. “Anyways, time to go. Good to see both of you.” Your thumbs and index fingers move around like two guns pointed at Sam and Steve.

“Good night,” Bucky simply adds.

While you two quietly walk away, Sam is already suspecting something is up.

“Did I drink too much or is there something going on between them?” Sam asks when you are far enough not to hear it.

“They are together.” Steve tries to sound as casual as possible.

“Wait! Really?” He thought something was just blooming between you two, not a full on relationship. “How do you know?”

“I heard them.” Steve notices how it sounds and quickly adds: “Talking.”

“And you are okay with that?”

“Yeah, sure.” That doesn’t sound convincing at all. “It’s not my place to say anything. It was never that serious.” He isn’t sure if he’s trying to convince Sam or himself. “I mean… I think she’d want to get serious, but she talked about staying friends and I jumped on the opportunity and agreed because I didn’t want a relationship.”

Sam nods. “Well, good for them I guess. They seem like a good match.”

“They really do.”

[zo3mess]

Laundry girl

Summary: Laundromat is usually empty so late at night except for Adrian, until it isn’t. But there is no reason for him to get nervous around his new laundry buddy, right?

Warnings: mentions of violence, mention of death, mention of period blood, foul language and that’s all? If you notice something that might be triggering, just let me know. Also female reader and no use Y/N as far as I remember.

Word count: 3.8K

Extra songs for this fic

Masterlist of my works

Note: My ongoing brain rot with Vigilante, inspiration from the song Laundry Girl from Ludo (I politely stole a lot from their lyrics) and need to practice my English before test somehow escalated into this. This is a mess, nothing makes sense idk. Honestly, I have no idea why I decided to make it public, but hey, bad content is still content right? English is not my first language, so if you see any grammar mistakes or weird words, just ignore them. However every criticism is welcomed and appreciated.

Oh, the sweet contrast of late spring. Days warm enough to let bare skin be caressed by heating sun, yet cold nights leave shivers down the spine, a fleeting reminder that the carelessness of summer is not entirely there yet. Exactly on one of those nights, Adrian found himself in a 24-hour laundromat down the street from his small apartment. Neon lights from the sign were illuminating dark streets as well as the faint lights from inside. He didn’t like that smell that lingered in the air. Fragrances from detergents that are far too strong and mix in an unpleasant whiff, plus the disinfection and the smell from forgotten socks that got stuck somewhere between a wall and washing machine. No, thanks. He could buy his own washing machine, which would be much more practical, but why make anything easy when you can make it difficult.

When Adrian entered the familiar environment, he sighed at the strong smell hitting his nose. Temperature in the laundromat was slightly warmer than the one outside, but not enough for him to take off his hoodie. Adrian settled his bag with dirty clothes on a scraped metal table in the middle of the cramped room. There was one thing he liked about this laundromat, even though it was open almost nonstop, no one was ever there late at night like he was. Usually. Sometimes few drunks were sleeping peacefully in the corner, desperately seeking just a tad bit of warmth, but as long they didn’t do anything, Adrian had no reason to pay any attention to them. Tonight was different, his regular loneliness and peace was disturbed by another person entering the room. However screeching of old doors, quick gust of cold air and heavy tired footsteps did not alert him at all.

His mind was too focused on a single task before him, getting rid of dried blood that was plastered on his black undershirt. The one he wears under his chest plate, one that was stitched up too many times from all the slashing and tearing. Will he ever buy a new one? Of course not. Not until he finds a shirt that looks and feels the same as this one. Adrian cursed the guy that got his suit in such disheveled state. That bastard deserved a bullet to his head even before he managed to get Vigilante’s suit all messy and sticky with blood.

,,Do you need help with that?” you ask with a soft voice, a smile on your face while you look at the stranger in front of you expectantly ,,I don’t want to call myself a professional, but I can pretty much clean every stain. Or at least I haven’t been defeated so far,’’

Your question caught him off guard, his hands wincing a little. Green eyes glancing up at you with startled expression. When did you get here? Were you watching him the whole time? Crouched up above his shirt, scrubbing away with bile soap, tip of his tongue stuck out in concentration. You leaned across the table, examining his work. ,,Ketchup?’’

,,Blood actually,’’ Why would it be ketchup? He doesn’t even like ketchup. It does not taste like tomatoes at all! Goddamn lying sauce. ,,I got a really bad nosebleed. I get that a lot, that’s why my clothes are always bloody.’’ No other reason of course.

,,If your clothes are always bloody you should have no problem with cleaning them right? But I gotta admit blood is a hell of an enemy when it dries and sits on the fabric for a while. Just put it in cold water to soak off, that should do it.’’

,,Why do you know so much about cleaning blood?’’ Adrian asks with suspicion in his voice. Eyebrows furrow under his glasses and his eyes stare at you intently. Paranoia creeping up on him again.

,,Well I don’t know if you noticed but I’m a woman. Periods teach you a lot. I’m not some blood-stained killer I swear.’’ You say the last sentence with a wide smile, shaking your head before returning to your own work. Throwing dirty laundry into the washing machine without even glancing back at Adrian. He was standing there with fingers tapping on the metal table, burning a hole in the back of your skull with his stare. Yeah, you better not be. He thinks to himself.

He forced a smile and went back to scrubbing, he did not have the time to soak it off, he needed it ready for tomorrow, preferably without blood. You paid him no mind and pushed the button to start the cycle. With a sigh you took out a small book from the laundry basket you brought with you and sat down on a screeching chair nestled between other washing machines. If you have to sit it out here you might as well do something productive.

,,Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy,” his voice made you flinch and you glanced at him absentmindedly ,,I love that movie!”

,,Book’s even better.” You acknowledged his giddiness with simple words. The truth is you enjoyed reading books after you watched movies that were based on them. Sometimes they were better, sometimes worse, but they always expanded the story and the universe.

,,Reading is for nerds plus it can’t be that much better.” Doubting Thomas, of course. Adrian quickly waved off the idea that books can be better than movies.

,,There is extremely many things that did not make it in the movie, not gonna mention directive changes. But go on, live your life without all the great details.” You returned to your reading, barely registering quiet mumbling coming from Adrian’s direction.

,,What are you doing here anyway? I come here almost every Saturday and I am alone here.” He won’t drop it, curiosity gets the better of him most of the time, why would this be any different? It is suspicious that another girl is washing her laundry in the middle of the night. The fact he is currently getting rid of blood from the undershirt he wears out to kill criminals is an entirely different story.

,,My washing machine broke and I don’t have spare money to buy a new one. I’ll be coming here until my next salary.” The other option is attempting to fix it yourself, that would be a death sentence for the washing machine and you too.

,,But why so late? It’s way past midnight.”

,,Couldn’t sleep.” You just shrugged. You did not care if he believed you or not, it was true. Your new neighbors were blasting music practically all evening, it was better to wait it out elsewhere. ,,It seems we will be meeting each other more often. I didn’t catch your name.”

,,It’s Adrian.” His voice was hesitant, suspicion rising and falling with each word you said. He’s not sure if you are a poor soul with dirty laundry or a spy hired to watch the infamous Vigilante. How would you even know his secret identity? He had no idea, but sometimes it is better to account for all possibilities. You nodded at his answer and told him your name in return. Little something he burned into the back of his mind.

The more time you spent together in the chilly room, words drowned out by buzzing washing machines, the more you got along. Starting off with awkward small talk, through petty debate whenever books are better than movies, all the way to wishing each other goodnight as well as Adrian wishing you had a monster under your bed and parting ways. Only if he knew monster wasn’t the one creeping up on you in your sleep. Thoughts of tonight busying your mind.  

------------

The second time he met you was two weeks from the last encounter, just the way he mentioned previously. This time you were there first, already occupying one machine with white clothes while the other part of your laundry sat in a basket nearby. You quickly shot him a smile and he greeted you in return.

,,You’re here early.’’ Adrian commented almost under his breath as he put full duffel bag on the table and began sorting his clothes by colors.

,,Yeah well, no reason for it really. Maybe curiosity got the best of me and I got here earlier just to see if you would came like you said you would.’’ It seems that old habits die hard. Unknown to you, Adrian was always on time in his routines. Even if he wanted to do his laundry on a different day or at a different time, his body would urge him to do things in the exact same way.

The conversation went on quite smoothly, like good old friends meeting. Usual chatter about their days, unnecessary details of “total baller” breakfast from Adrian’s side, gossip about migraine-inducing coworkers from yours. Adrian attention was glued to every word you said, piece by piece putting together a bigger picture. He can’t even remember the last time someone actually wanted to talk with him and not just wave him off with dismissive answers.

,,- And then she put a fucking poster on our shared fridge. That stupid one with cat on a tree with “Hang in there” under it. And I thought our office could not get any more stereotypical,” you were throwing your hands around, visibly stating your annoyance at your coworker Debbie. ,,I don’t want to “Hang in there” I would much rather hang myself and I swear to God I will hang her in janitor’s closet if she puts another poster on the fridge or tells me a cheesy joke about how much she hates her husband, it’s not funny.”

She’s joking, Adrian, don’t sweat it out. There is no way she could kill anyone. His inner thoughts creep up to him again. From time to time, he would appreciate if his Vigilante mind left Adrian alone. ,,So uhhh… You don’t like cheesy jokes?” Yeah, great save, do not mention hanging Debbie.

,,I like jokes, just not stupid ones. To be honest I can’t remember the last time someone told me a funny joke. I guess it is a curse of modern times, humor changed.” You shrugged your shoulders and walk around the crumpled room, looking around and taking in details you missed on your first visit.

,,I could tell you a funny joke. I know plenty of them!” Adrian’s enthusiasm made you stop in your tracks. He’s just standing there, a wide smile forming on his face, fingers fidgeting with hem of dirty shirt that laid in mountain of laundry on the table in front of him.

Even if you told him no, Adrian has decided to recite every joke he knew. Some of them were horrible, some of them were… better. Yet it did not made you laugh. It was a fun game to pass the time, he told you lousy jokes and after each one he patiently waited for your reaction with puppy eyes. You, on the other hand, had tried so hard to not even let a corner of your mouth turn upwards. The bigger satisfaction it brought the more he stammered as he tried to remember another joke. Adrian could not let himself be a loser in this situation. He will not give up.

Not laughing at his jokes should be illegal. And that would make you a criminal. In that case, he would not feel bad if he had to take you out as Vigilante. And maybe if he got rid of you, he wouldn’t feel that irritating need late at night, body itching to go to the laundromat near his apartment to see if you couldn’t sleep either. If you’re scrubbing spilled wine from your shirt with cheap detergent before throwing it in a washing machine with the rest of your clothes. If you’re waiting patiently not only for your clothes to dry but also for that funny stranger with curly hair and a dorky smile to show up. Maybe then his mind would calm down again. He doesn’t need any more distractions in his head.

,,Knock knock,’’ he starts again, determined to win this imaginary joke war.

,,Come in,’’ you retort while chuckle is threatening to slip from your lips. Adrian’s arms slouch down his body, enthusiasm transforming into… Annoyance? He so desperately wants to see you smile, why can’t you comply? People usually laugh at his jokes, or more like they laugh at him. No matter the reason, people occasionally laugh in his presence alongside constant eye rolls. You haven’t done either and it is messing with him.

,,Knock knock,’’ a firmer repetition. He’s not going to get discouraged.

Determination is admirable in certain situations, in others it just leads to doom.  Like that one time when Adrian was chasing a thief down the street, low on bullets, ringing in his ears, lungs burning, but he could not forgive himself if that rat got away. All his attention was set on the dark figure way ahead of him that he did not notice a car when he sprinted across a badly lit street, ultimately knocking him down. Heavens were on his side that night, nothing serious happened except for a few nasty bruises and unrelenting remorse that haunted him following weeks. But the good kind of determination? That’s gonna win him a smile from a pretty girl in the laundromat.

,,Who’s there?’’ this time you decided to go along with his joke. These types of jokes are… foul, but you just want to see where he will land with it.

,,Honey bee,’’

,,Honey bee who?’’

,,Honey bee a dear and get that for me please?’’ Adrian says it with a wide smile and excitement in his voice. He points at your laundry beads that boost the scent. ,,It smells so good when you open it, can I try it?’’

You laugh just a bit. Fucking finally. Now Adrian felt like at the top of the world. He made you laugh, no matter if it was just a pitying laugh to get him to shut up, he decided to believe you actually found him funny and no one could take that from him. You noticed the dreamy look that plastered his face, especially when you let him borrow scented beads. Part of you cherished the fact he liked the ones you washed your clothes with every time and part of Adrian cherished the fact that now his clothes will smell like you before it wears out. That his sleeping shirt will carry part of you on those nights that he doesn’t see you here.

Wait, when did that happen? Smell of another person on his clothes should weird him out, it should give him goosebumps all over his pale skin. Why does it sound so comforting this time? Why does he want to keep part of you close? The last time he felt something similar was when his brother Gut died. They weren’t super close, but his death hit him like a train and he quite literally became a trainwreck. Adrian sat in his brother’s childhood room for hours, taking notes of all the small details, remembering the exact position of each and every piece of furniture. And at times when he felt close to breaking into tears, he took out his brother’s shirts. The familiarity and memories brought comfort. Comfort that disappeared as fast as it came.

This time he was not mourning death of someone close to him, this time he did not miss the feeling of adrenaline that he felt with Peacemaker when they shot appliances in forest or when they killed criminals together before he got locked up. This time Adrian felt a need to be close to someone he met just a few weeks ago, someone who barely knew him and had not gotten the chance to be taken back by his weirdness.

These thoughts and confusion followed him home that night. Not even the cold air could not break him out of trance. The way you laughed, the way you softly wished him goodnight when you parted ways, skin illuminated by purple neon light hanging above laundromat, and the way his now clean laundry smells like you since he begged for your scented beads. Pull yourself together Adrian.

------------------

,,I don’t understand how you might think Fargo is better than the Office or Better Call Saul for example. Saying it is the best show ever made is crazy.” Friendly banter about TV series was accompanied by clicking of your flip-flops as you made your way towards your apartment complex just a couple blocks away from the laundromat. Adrian had insisted that he walks you home this time, apparently he was afraid you might “fall asleep on your way home” since you two spent almost the whole night in the laundromat.

Not just doing laundry, you also brought your book, Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and read out loud for him to hear the difference between book and movie. While you waited for your clothes to dry you two sat on uncomfortable chairs, you with book wide open, pages visible for Adrian to peek from behind your shoulder whenever he wanted. Though most of the time he spent with his eyes closed, face leaning on a stock of washing machines next to him, listening to your reading like a bedtime story. Even after your laundry was done you decided to stick around, competing who flicks quarters farthest, catching peanuts in your mouth and testing echo in every washing machine. Until you finally decided to head home and get at least few hours of sleep, by that time it was past 5 a.m.

Sun was lazily rising, yellow painted the sky but few dark clouds were spoiling the otherwise beautiful picture. The smell of rain was in the air, you both knew there was a storm coming on a calm Sunday morning. Few joggers passed you in a hurry. Early birds. Psychopaths. Not like Adrian wasn’t psychotic at least a bit, but he wasn’t that mad to get up so early to run in still-cold weather.

,,What do you think is the best show then?” he calmly asked and nudged your shoulder with his own, encouraging you to answer.

,,Well… I think the best show is The Kids in the Hall, undying classic.” You knew your walk slowly but surely reached its end. You could see your main entrance, the fact you were reaching your home was setting you aflame in the worst way possible. Nonetheless, your eyelids grew heavy and you could not stop yourself from yawning every few seconds, an unavoidable need to fall into your bed and surrender to sweet slumber.

,,That show is like 100 years old! Dinosaurs watched it!” Adrian shook his head with laughter. You didn’t find his jokes funny but you loved this out of all the shows. Unbelievable.

,,Hey! If you call that show old, it is like you’re calling yourself old! Should I call nursing to pick you up?” You stopped in front of your apartment complex, not entirely sure Adrian realizes this is where your hangout ends. You spin around to face him and quickly jab him in the chest with your finger.

,,Ha ha, very funny. But really? So many good shows and you pick this one? And call me out for liking Fargo? You have horrible taste.” He couldn’t let this go now he saw how adorable you looked when you were angry. What is the worst that can happen if he teases you more, right?

,,Shut it, Adrian. I’m serious.” You said that so calmly it almost took him aback, however he could see the fire burning behind your eyes. It only riled him up more.

,,You can’t make me-“ You grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him down swiftly. The best solution to shut him up was to press your lips against his. A firm, simple kiss that sent electricity through your body. You felt a muffled yelp that escaped Adrian’s mouth when you surprised him in such an affectionate manner. And at that moment, when your lips touched his, for the first time in a while his mind was quiet, yet his soul was singing. Time stopped, eyes were tightly shut, heart hammering inside, begging to jump out of his chest, one of his hands found its place on your forearm in uncertainty and took a step closer to get his body closer to you.

You, on the other hand, were fully aware of what was happening. The feeling of gratification that you “won” an argument was the last thing on your mind. The only thing you could think of was acting up on your secret wishes that swam through your head every time you went to the laundromat to see him.  Suddenly aware of everything, you felt the heat that radiated from Adrian’s body, warming you up in cold air, a few raindrops making you shiver as they fell on your skin. Or were you shivering from the closeness of this intimate act? If anyone asked you would not be able to answer. It did not matter anyway, the only thing that mattered was you kissing him.

The kiss lasted only for a few seconds, but you would both swear it was an eternity. When you pulled away, slowly and delicately, Adrian still had eyes closed, hand hanging in the air where your arm used to be. You realized his mind was completely shut off. A smile formed on your lips at the thought of shutting Adrian up this way every time he brings up some stupid nonsensical squabble. You left him standing there as rain started to fall on his hair, diamonds in those dark brown curls. And when he finally came to his senses and decided to open his eyes… You were gone. Coldness on his body where you were pressed together, sparks lingering on lips, sweet perfume filling his nose, those should be indicators that it was very much real, but his mind was not certain. How could it be, when the stupid brain ceased the second his dreams came true.

You quickly ran upstairs to your apartment, running up to the window in your kitchen and from behind a curtain you watched confused Adrian, who was walking in the opposite direction. What other choice did you leave him than to head home and wonder. Wonder about what you were doing when raindrops splattered on the sidewalk, sounding like your flip-flops. Wonder if you’re already sleeping safe and sound in your bedroom like he will when he reaches his home. Wonder if you kiss him again once you see each other next week in the laundromat. Wonder if the laundry girl was real or just a dream.

[enby-trainer]

Poke Ball - If you have pokémon what kind of poke balls are they kept in?

Ordinary red/white balls with custom stickers of their names on 'em. I oughta decorate them more but I can't settle on a good way to do it.

Great Ball - Is there anything your pokémon are especially great at? Like tricks or moves?

Delphine's fave move is Play Rough, at least, I'm guessing it is since she uses it so often, and she's pretty good at it in my opinion. Meanwhile Nox's seems to be Power Gem? Also for the same reason.

Ultra Ball - How easy is it to bathe and groom your pokémon? What is needed to do so?

Usually the gals just clean themselves easily enough. They dislike getting dirty. Never needed to give either of 'em a bath.

Luxury Ball - What is one luxury you tend to take for granted or use to take for granted?

I used to tend to order DoorDash meals when I was too lazy to cook. And then one month I basically went broke because of my lack of self-control and sense. So, no more of that!

Heal Ball - Do you have any scars or injuries? How did you get them?

All the old cuts I got as a child from the multiple meowth my parents had growing up have healed and faded since then. Not all of those meowth liked children, y'know? And I was an annoying kid, always grabby-hands. Thankfully neither of my gals have ever seriously got me. Unrelated to pokemon, I got a fracture in one of my arms as a child when another kid pushed me off the monkey bars. Had to wear a cast.

Love Ball - Is there anyone you care deeply for? It can be romantic, platonic, or familial love.

My mom, for one. She wasn't perfect and still has her flaws to this day, but she loves me in the end and just wants me to be happy.

Friend Ball - Do you have any close friends? How did you meet them?

I don't really have any friends outside of my family, unfortunately. It's kind of lonely. One of the reasons I made this blog was so I could make new friends in the pokemon-owning community.

Repeat Ball - What is one thing that you could do over and over and never get tired of?

Eat! Sleep? Lol. I'm not very interesting. Well...if I could experience the feeling of winning a battle with your 'mon over and over again, that would probably be it. It's one of the few things in my life that make me feel like I know what I'm doing and I'm not a failure of a person. Which makes it suck even more when I lose.

Cherish Ball - What memory are you most fond of?

When Nox and Delphine were kittens, though Delphine was grown by the time Nox came into the picture. I hold those times near and dear to my heart.

Premier Ball - Are there any special events that you’re looking forward to in the future? If the event has already happened, what was it?

I plan to challenge a Unovan gym eventually! I just, uh, am indecisive...

Safari Ball - Have you been on any adventures? What were they?

Outside of New Tork? Not really. I've never left this city my whole life. I think I've got to change that...

Dusk Ball - Do you prefer the day or the night? Dawn or dusk?

I am a morning person.

Dream Ball - Do you have a dream? Or have you already achieved it?

I want to be a real, traveling pokemon trainer, I think. I've been stalling because I'm hesitant to give up everything I've gotten so far -- my job, my apartment. Being a professional trainer isn't easy, as far as I've observed...do you think I'm making up excuses? I'm not sure what I'm doing. All I know is sometime soon I need to try.

Heavy Ball - What is the biggest pokémon you own? What is the biggest Pokémon you are willing to own?

Both of my gals are averagely sized for Kantonian persian and both are about the same size as one another.

Strange Ball - What is the strangest thing you’ve seen or have heard about?

Why do scientists insist on making unethical hybrids like arctozolt and dracozolt? The poor things.

Park Ball - Do you take your pokémon out to fun places such as the park or the beach?

I take my 2 persian out to local parks as often as I can. Also on general walks.

Moon Ball - If you have pokémon that have evolved how did it happen? If they haven’t yet evolved do you or your pokémon ever plan on doing it?

If Nox and Delphine ever felt like they wanted to evolve before they did, they never let me know. I get the feeling neither of them expected to evolve either. For Delphine, it happened about half a year before Nox evolved. IIRC, meowth-Delphine was eating her daily dinner when suddenly she began to glow and change in shape. Nox, we were outside on a walk. I didn't expect any of it. They were both still pretty young, and to be honest they are still young now. Does this mean I'm a decent trainer? I hope so.

Quick Ball - Do you tend to take your time with things or do you have a ‘go go go’ attitude?

I am contradictory. Sometimes I have a go-go-go let's get this done right now kinda attitude, and then with other things I procrastinate badly.

Sports Ball - Have you participated in any competitions? Like pokémon contests or battle tournaments?

Not yet but we will. I am 26 and we've still got our whole life ahead of us. Don't remind me how some people start out at age 10 and still become champions...it makes me feel depressed about my progress.

Nest Ball - How old was your youngest pokémon when you got them?

Nox is the youngest, and she was practically a baby when I got her. Delphine was more of a teen.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

(𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐)

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || your newest client asks you to give him a real challenge, and you’re happy to oblige.  

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 6.3k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut but no actual sex (lots of handjob stuff though and some brief oral m receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, more cnc (because of the overstimulation), bondage, edging, impact play (riding crop), brief cock torture (she just hits him with the crop a couple times), implied “kink as trauma response” (this is gonna be a theme throughout the whole fic), forced to break a rule/doomed to fail/impossible challenge (idk how to warn for this but yeah), forced voyeurism?, thigh riding (reader rides bucky’s thigh), some degradation/dumbification, brief/implied dacryphilia, a bit of angst/feelings

new parts posted on thursdays!  join the taglist here

“Can’t,” he sighed, “can’t come again.”

He looked so painfully adorable when he begged like that, his brow glistening with sweat as he jerked under your touch.  “Aw, poor baby,” you pouted, twisting your hand when it stroked over the head of his cock, “yes you can.  I know you can.  Just gimme one more.”

“F-fuck,” he whimpered, “Mistress, please— just stop, please, I can’t… can’t take any more…”

“I know you can, sweetheart— I know you can be my good boy and keep coming for me.  Tell me your color.”

“Yellow,” he whispered.

“Think you’re almost done?” you pressed, smiling when he nodded breathlessly.  “Yeah, there’s my good boy— gonna come again for your Mistress?”

“Yes,” he breathed, baring his teeth as his hips bucked wildly to try to avoid further sensation, “y-yes, one more, just one more, I’m gonna— fuck, gonna come, just don’t stop… fuck, it hurts.”

“I know, but you’re being so good for me,” you purred.  “You like it when I milk your pretty cock, don’t you?  Even though it hurts?”

He winced but nodded.  “C-coming, Mistress, fuck, I’m coming…!”

Since it was his fifth of the evening, he could only give you one thick drop of come that gathered at his slit before running down over your hand which finally slowed to a stop.

You both sighed with relief as you pulled your hand away and leaned back, admiring how beautiful he looked as he caught his breath, covered in come and sweat.

"Good job," you praised with a chuckle, "I hope I didn't go too hard on you."

"N-no, that was… that was really good," he sighed, slumping back onto the bed.  "Can I use your shower before I go?"

"Yeah, totally," you nodded.

After a long pause, you gave him a confused look.  

"I thought you were gonna shower?" you reminded him.

"Oh… I guess I have to get up for that," he sighed, making you laugh.

"Rest a bit longer.  You've had a… challenging afternoon."

He nodded a little and you got up from the bed to go wash your hands and freshen up a little, smiling at your own appearance in the mirror— sometimes you forgot how you looked when you did this, but there was an undeniable aura of power around you… especially after a session like that.

This was only your third week with James, and already the dynamic felt so natural between you— and yet, so fresh compared to your other clients.  Normally it took longer for a newbie to get comfortable with you, yet most of them had had multiple doms before and here was James, totally inexperienced and taking it all like a champ.  There was an air of innocence about him, you figured, in contrast to this undeniable strength and intensity that you caught glimpses of from time to time.

Sometimes, it felt like he was chasing an innocence he lost a long time ago.  Whatever it was that drew him to this, you were happy to help him along the way.

It was probably a little dangerous to enjoy sessions with a client so much; even though you often pretended that everything was about your pleasure and not theirs, obviously since they were the paying customer it was the complete opposite in reality.  But there was an equity to the dynamic with you and Bucky, he served you with a real dedication rather than for his own gain.  And you, meanwhile, had rediscovered the fun in this career that had originally drawn you to it in the first place.  It was less like a science now, more like an art— you let yourself go with your instincts and do whatever felt right in the moment, and both of you benefitted for it.  

“Come on, get up and clean yourself off,” you encouraged— gently, of course— as you left the bathroom and returned to find James laying sprawled out on the bed.

“I know you said falling asleep here was a one-time courtesy,” he remembered with a smile, “but I could use it now a lot more than I needed it then.”

Honestly, you didn’t see him smile that often.  It was pleasant; you hoped to see it again.  He did get up, though, and take the washcloth you handed him to wipe off the come that had gotten all over him.  “What are you thinking for next week?” you asked as you leaned against the wall.  “Any special requests?”

“We can discuss all that over the phone,” he decided.  You still didn’t understand fully why he didn’t like to discuss future scenes in person; it was like he wanted the in-person interactions to be as ‘in character’ (if you will) as possible.

“Alright, just keep me updated,” you requested with a shrug.

You got changed while he took his shower, and when he emerged to the living room he seemed surprised to see you sitting on your own couch.  After a moment, you realized it was the fact that you were in normal clothes that threw him off.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans before… or pants of any kind.”

You looked down at your outfit with a smile, glad it was at least still professional and not sweats and a t-shirt or something.  “Yeah, I guess you haven’t.  First time for everything, right?”

“Yeah, had a lot of first times with you,” he chuckled.  “Most significantly less mundane than this.”

A brief silence filled the room but it wasn’t exactly awkward, at least not for you.

“Well, I’ll see you next week,” he decided as he grabbed his jacket from your chair and slipped it on.  You’d been spending most of this session trying to forget how good he looked in the leather motorcycle cut, so that was out the window now as you tried to keep from visibly biting your lip while he walked towards the door.

Damn, he was fine.  But there were more pressing matters at hand.  Like preparing yourself and your apartment for your next appointment.  This guy wanted to get slapped around until he cried… shouldn't be too difficult, but your arms would probably be sore tomorrow.

Opposite of last week, I really want you to edge me tonight, as long as possible.

Don't go easy on me, make me hold it in.  I need a challenge this week.

-J

It was odd how emails from James made your week.

He seemed to prefer to communicate his desire with you this way; maybe it was easier for him, and you couldn’t really blame him for that.  The nice part was that you didn’t have to temper your reactions, if you had any, since you were always alone when you got his messages.  You might be old hat at it now, but you could remember a time that you had to hide a grimace when a client told you to your face what he wanted.  Not that you would shame them for it or anything (unless, you know, they paid you to), but you didn’t enjoy everything you did with these men.

Did you enjoy everything you did with James?  Yes, but you were pretending not to— for your own sake.

You dressed a bit differently for today’s session, more conservatively… not that it was especially conservative by any other person’s standards.  But it left your legs and chest covered, somewhat in the spirit of ‘mean corporate businesswoman’ aesthetically.  For some reason you felt like using a riding crop required wearing pants.

James certainly didn’t seem to mind, with the way he nervously cleared his throat after you opened the door.

“Good to see you again,” you greeted formally, “please, come in.”

He stepped past you, still looking at you and not at what was in front of him, meaning he ended up slamming himself gut-first into your kitchen island.

“Oh!  Are you alright?” you smiled when you noticed. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” he nodded, rubbing his stomach for a second but recovering quickly.  “I told you I can take a lot of pain,” he joked.

“Well, we’re going to put that to the test today,” you promised cryptically.  “You must’ve seen the crop on the table.”

He nodded again.  “Yeah....”

“Are you looking forward to it?”

“Yes,” he answered, a bit too quickly.

“Then let’s get you tied up, James.”

Straddling his lap, you realized the rope was a bit too tight when you saw it digging into his skin; maybe he wouldn’t mind that, but you did, so you pushed the rope back through itself to loosen it slightly.

“How long did it take you to learn all these knots?” he asked casually, watching your fingers nimbly work the ropes around his wrists.

“Not too long,” you shrugged, “I’ve only been doing this a few years… but I knew them before that.”

“Boating school?  Boy Scouts?” he suggested jokingly.

“Just a hobby,” you decided, dodging the covert question about your past.  “Were you a Boy Scout?”

“Do I look like a Boy Scout?” he countered with a scoff.

“Not anymore,” you shrugged, “but I bet you did once.  You’re sorta innocent, you know.”

He swallowed dryly, and you raised an eyebrow as you glanced from the knot you were tightening to his face, which looked a bit flustered.  “R-really?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, leaning back on your heels to look at him straight-on.  “Are you surprised to hear that?”

He nodded quickly, and you laughed.

“Aw, you thought you were so kinky, huh?  So dirty,” you purred, running your hand up his leg until he tugged slightly on the newly-tied ropes— a subtle way to get him to test them for you.  “But you’re really not.  You’re just my sweet, innocent boy.”

He whined— really, properly whined— and you dug your nails into his skin until he hissed instead.

“I don’t think you believe me,” you noticed, leaning back to reach for the crop behind you.  “You think you’re so filthy and perverted, right?  Are you a pervert, James?”

“Yes,” he breathed, shivering as you let the crop slide gently over his skin— his abs, his hips, his legs which were already quivering so adorably.  “Yes, Mistress.”

“And how’s that?”

“I think about… getting hurt,” he admitted weakly, “when I touch myself.  And I touch myself all the fucking time.”

“Yeah?  How many times a day do you stroke that pretty cock, James?”

“Twice every morning,” he blurted out, “after that it depends.”

You didn’t let yourself show your surprise at that number.  “Depends on what?”

When he hesitated, you hit him sharply on the thigh and he winced.  “Depends on what I… what I end up thinking about.  Sometimes… sometimes something reminds me, and I have to get off.”

Something told you not to press on what it was that he needed to be reminded of, and why it made him want to jerk off so bad.  Something told you he wasn’t ready to tell that story yet.  “Did you touch yourself today already?” you asked instead.

“No, no ma’am,” he shook his head, voice wavering as you brushed the crop over his chest, “it’s… it’s different with you.”

“Yeah, I bet it is,” you smirked, hitting him on the stomach quickly.  “I bet you’re finally satisfied, right?  Nothing’s ever worked for you before.”

“Yes,” he moaned, crying out slightly when you hit him on the arm (flesh— you were too afraid what sound the metal one would make) much harder than before.  “The nights I see you, I… I can sleep.”

“You sleep better?”

“No, I just… sleep.”

You tried not to react to that, moving to a new question instead.  “Do you want me to hit you again?  Or do you want me to stroke your cock for you?”

An obvious choice to some, surely, but he seemed to really struggle with it.

“Which one do you think you deserve?” you asked instead.

“Hit me more,” he decided.

Instantly, you struck him once on the face and again on the shoulder, then moved down to his legs for three in a row in spite of the way his body jerked away instinctively.  

“Fuck,” he sobbed, “don’t stop— I need more…”

You focused on his legs, on the inside of his thigh where he seemed the most sensitive.  His twisted joy turned to true fear, though, when you brushed the end of the crop over his balls.  “Do you want me to hit you here?” you challenged.

“I… I don’t know,” he stammered.

“Let’s make a deal, James,” you offered, “wherever I hit you, I’m gonna kiss it to make it better.”

“Then hit me wherever you want,” he nodded, almost smiling at you.  He cried through his teeth when you whipped his shaft with the crop— not especially hard, in fact quite delicately, though the second was harder.  And the third, though not much more aggressive, was right on the sensitive tip; his eyes shot open and his hips jerked away.

“So good, such a good boy,” you whispered proudly, putting the crop aside to lean in and kiss his cheek where you’d hit him before, his shoulder, his arm.

You worked your way down carefully as he breathed heavily beneath you, whimpering slightly when you kissed his thighs and notably ignored his flexing, leaking cock.  “Please,” he whimpered.

“Shh, be patient,” you soothed, “be my good boy.”

“Your good boy,” he repeated, trying to restrain himself but already bucking up into the air again, “fuck, wanna be your good boy, Mistress.”

“Are you already close, pet, just from getting hurt?” you asked in a faux pout.  “You’re not gonna come if I give your pretty cock some kisses, right?”

“I— I won’t come,” he promised.  “Not until I get permission.”

“Baby, it’s gonna be a long fuckin’ time before you get permission,” you promised with a toothy grin.  “Look down at me, honey, I want you to see this.”

He hesitated for a second but obeyed, looking down at you with an expression that was full of awe as you gripped his cock and gave gentle, teasing kisses up his shaft.  It bobbed in your hands with each one, and he let out the most beautiful sigh when you kissed the tip carefully.

A wide lick made him jerk beneath you.  “F-Fuck,” he stammered.

“You said you wouldn’t come,” you reminded him.  “Can I keep going?  Are you gonna be a good boy?”

“Don’t stop, please,” he breathed, “I’ll be good.”

Taking the head between your lips, you suckled gently as he shivered and moaned.  You weren’t sure you’d ever been with anybody— on or off the clock— who was so sensitive.  And you loved it, honestly; who could resist those precious noises he made?

As much as part of you wanted to go nuts and really push him to the edge, you tried to be gentle and careful so as not to make it impossible for him to hold back.  But even then, when you gently grasped his balls in one of your hands and squeezed them, he apparently couldn’t take anymore.

"S-stop," he hissed, and you pulled back, sitting up.

"You were close?" you asked, and he nodded a little.  "Oh, what a good boy."

He whimpered briefly.  "Yes, your good boy, Mistress…"

Your fingers trailed delicately up the underside of his cock, making him shiver violently.  "I know you want to come, but you want to be good even more.  You're such a sweet little pet."

It seemed like the praises did more to keep him on the edge than the touches, so you kept both going; wrapping your fingers around the ridge of his head, you gave the most gentle and subtle strokes, and leaned in to whisper against his ear.

“Is this why you wanted me to edge you today, James?  So you could show me how good you can be?” 

“I-I don’t know,” he blurted out, rocking his hips as best he could while restrained, “I just wanted to… I just wanted you to make me wait.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that,” you laughed slightly, “I can make you wait all day.  Is that what you want?”

“No, that’s— not that long, I can’t wait that long,” he shuddered.

“Mm, that sounds like your problem, not mine,” you smirked.  “Not sure why I asked what you want, honestly… cause I don’t fucking care.”

His choked-out whine was too perfect to ignore.

“Oh, what a pathetic little moan that was, poor baby,” you cooed mockingly, “are you regretting it now?  You’re probably wondering what you got yourself into, ‘cause you’re worried Mistress is never gonna let you come.”

“No, I don’t regret it,” he denied weakly, “whatever you want— do whatever you want to me, just… give me what I deserve, please.”

You stopped touching him completely and he straight-up sobbed.  “You don’t deserve anything from me, James.  You don’t deserve me at all.”

He told you before that he liked when you rapidly cycled between soft and mean.  Kept him on his toes, apparently.  Honestly, you felt a little guilty talking to him that way sometimes, but his cock leaking enough pre-cum to soak the bedsheets beneath him was a sign you were doing something right.  “I know!” he cried.  “I know, fuck, I’m sorry, but I need you.  I fucking need you, Mistress, please— you know I’ll do anything.”

“I’m feeling generous today,” you shrugged, “so I won’t ask you for much.  Just beg me a little more.”

“Please, pleasepleaseplease,” he rushed, “touch me.  Anywhere, whatever you want, I just need to feel you.  I know I… fuck, I know I don’t deserve it, but let me try to— to earn it.  Please.”

You knew if he had it his way, he wouldn’t do much talking at all.  But you couldn’t just let him have it his way, now could you?  It was better to make him just the right amount of nervous, just the slightest hair uncomfortable, by making him talk to you.  And, of course, you liked the way his deep and rough voice got all whiny and needy like this.

One finger under his chin guided him to look up at you, those pretty blue eyes watery and sparkling and wide with misplaced innocence.

“Tell me who you belong to, James,” you instructed darkly.

“You, Mistress,” he whispered, “I’m yours, I— oh fuck…”

Unshockingly, he was reduced to only moans again when you started stroking his cock, the slick precum making every movement smoother.  “All mine, huh?  My little toy?” you confirmed, but he could only nod and swallow thickly.

You sped up quickly, getting faster and faster until you were really, properly jerking him off and he was biting hard on his lip.  Just when he seemed to really fall into it, get almost comfortable, you had to stop.

"Oh, fuck—" he gasped, bucking his hips up to try to chase your hand when you pulled away, but it was no use with him tied up.  You watched his cock bob in the air and smiled.

“Did you think it was going to be that easy?” you smirked.

Shaking his head, you tilted yours to look at him, reaching up to trace your fingers over his chest.  

“Don’t lie, baby, you thought I was gonna let you come, didn’t you?  You’re so sweet, James, and so, so stupid.”

He gasped, and for a second you thought you might’ve gone too far, but it shifted to a moan quickly and you realized he was having the time of his life.

“Just my dumb, brainless little toy,” you continued with a snarl, watching him tug at the ropes as his eyes fluttered shut.  “It’s okay, James, it’s okay… you don’t need to think, I don’t want your mind.  It’s useless.  I want this pretty cock, that’s all I want from you.”

“It’s all yours, Mistress,” he promised, cheeks burning bright red and eyes forced shut.  “All of it, I swear.”

“I know,” you cooed, holding his face gently to soothe him a bit.  But then your other hand wrapped around his cock and he was anything but soothed.  “Shh, shh, don’t make any sounds, you’re just a toy and toys need to stay quiet.”

You missed his noises, actually, but he looked so cute biting his lip and struggling to suppress them.  His cock was so swollen in your hand that you honestly wondered if it was somehow getting bigger.  Was that even possible?  Your mouth was watering regardless.

“I’m gonna give you a little break,” you promised gently, “but I’ll be honest, pretty boy… I don’t think you’re gonna like it one bit.”

The look he gave you beautifully balanced fear with anticipation, and you stopped stroking him to reach over towards the bedside drawer and pull out a vibrator.

“Your Mistress is feeling a little.... self-indulgent today,” you winked.  “And since I, unlike you, don’t need to hold myself back from coming, I think I might as well get myself off if I want to.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed dryly, watching you closely as you stood up off the bed and started to carefully undress yourself.  It was a lot more fun to get naked when you were wearing something that didn’t actually show much skin— the button-up seemed to really get him going, his tongue mindlessly darting out to lick his lips as you opened one button at a time.

Once it was off your shoulders and on the floor, and he could see the almost-transparent bra you had on, you moved to opening your trousers as well.  Just to be mean, you faced the other way as you pushed them down over your ass; you heard his breath catch and you smirked to yourself, spinning to face him again in just the matching, dark red bra and panty set.

“What do you think, do you like this better than the black ones?” you asked coyly.

“I like you naked better than both,” he answered, and you grinned.

“I’m gonna let that backtalk slide just once because it’s not worth my time to go over there and slap you for it,” you decided.  “But don’t test me, James.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he answered dutifully, sounding a bit out of breath as he watched you climb back onto the bed, positioning yourself carefully.

You faced him straight-on and laid your legs over his, meaning your lace-covered pussy was in full view and only inches from his leaking cock— the damn thing looked sore by now, purple at the tip and just as desperate for attention as the rest of him.

When you pulled the fabric aside to show him your cunt, he hissed and looked away.

“Look at me, James, keep your eyes open,” you demanded, seeing how totally wrecked he looked when he turned his head back to you and stared down at your body with half-lidded eyes.  “Look at how fucking soaked my pussy is.  You remember how it feels to be inside it, don’t you?”

He swallowed, sighed, and finally (just barely) nodded.

“You remember how hot and wet and tight it is, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” he choked.

“Well, that memory’s all you’ve got to work with, sweet boy, because I don’t think I’m ever gonna let you fuck this pussy again.”

He really, properly sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks, and those arms flexed against the ropes defiantly.  “N-no, please—” 

“I’m gonna make myself come with this,” you promised, interrupting him as you grabbed the vibe, “and I want you to remember how it feels when I come around you, okay?  

Turning it on, you wasted no time pressing it to your clit, moving the end of the toy in slow circles and keeping a close eye on him as he watched you.  Your intention had always been to give him a show, but the embarrassing thing was how little of it was an act.  Ironically, even though you’d been edging him this whole time, having to touch him that way without any pleasure for yourself was almost as torturous.  You’d soaked through your panties by the time you had him tied up, to be totally honest.  So, giving into it and letting yourself feel good was a breeze.

“Think about when I was riding you, James,” you instructed, your own voice clearly affected by your pleasure now.  “Think about how good it would feel if I let you come inside me.”

“Oh, god,” he cried, leaning his head back.

“Think about my pussy milking every fucking drop of come out of you.  You know I wouldn’t let you stop until I was completely full of your come, I bet you’d like that.  I bet you’d like to eat your come out of me, you sick little pervert.”

“Fuck!” he yelped, tugging at the ropes harder now— for a second you thought he might really break them and jump you.  And for a second, you knew you’d let him.  It made your walls clench as you imagined facing the consequences of driving a man to the brink of insanity until he couldn’t help but fuck you like an animal.  It was a good thing he didn’t see you bite your lip as you imagined that.

“You know what I’m thinking about?” you taunted.  

“God, don’t tell me,” he sighed through his teeth, but obviously you ignored him.

“I’m thinking about what a good boy you are for me,” you cooed, your hips starting to rock up against where you held the end of the vibrator; you pressed it down harder onto your clit and moaned instantly.  “Yeah, I’m thinking about how pretty you look when you’re all desperate and needy and fucking pathetic—”

“Oh—” he choked.

“My dumb litlte whore, that’s all you are, James,” you groaned.  “I know you wish you could touch me, it’s all you can think about, right?  That pretty head of yours would be completely empty if it weren’t for thoughts of me and how badly you want me.  Right?”

“Yes,” he whispered huskily.

A shiver ran up your spine when the vibrator bumped into a more sensitive part of you, and you did it again and again until you thought you might lose it a bit faster than you meant to.  “This toy feels really good,” you informed him in a purr, gasping when you slipped the vibrating body of it into your pussy, “but it doesn’t feel as good inside me as you do.”

His eyes fell shut but he still winced a bit every time you made a sound; he couldn’t run from this, no matter how hard he tried.

“Oh James,” you moaned loudly, fucking yourself with the vibe for a moment before you pulled it back out to focus even harder on your clit, “I’m gonna come.  I’m so, so close… I can feel it getting stronger, I think I might make a mess on these sheets.  And the only way I’m ever gonna let you come is if you watch me do it.  So open your fucking eyes.”

He blinked quickly as he opened them, gaze scanning your whole body before settling on your cunt; you were sure he could see it pulsing as you got closer and closer, you knew he was imagining how it would feel.  You only spared a brief glimpse at his cock, bobbing between his legs, and wished you could just slip it in you now and come while it stretched you out. 

But that wasn’t what he was here for, sadly, and you were sure you were the only being truly denied of your desires, despite how it probably seemed from the outside.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, numbness starting to tingle in your legs as your orgasm built up quicker than even you expected.  “I’m coming— James, I’m coming, oh, fuck… right there— yes!”

A gush of heat warmed your cunt at the same time that shocks ran up your spine and down your limbs; you could feel your legs shaking, and you knew he could, too.  

It got so intense for a second that you had to pull the vibrator away, though you didn’t stop coming until a few moments later, eyes falling shut without you meaning for them to.

You actually laughed a bit, breathlessly, as you turned the vibe off and set it aside, although you weren’t sure exactly what was supposed to be funny about this per se.  When you opened your eyes, you saw James looking down and looking positively defeated.  But he looked tense, too, and you sat up on your wobbly legs to get closer to his face.  

“Relax, James,” you told him firmly as you examined him.

“I— I can’t,” he whispered. 

“Why not?”

“I’ll come.”

Nothing could fight your wide grin anymore, not when you heard that.  “Oh, baby… are you about to come without even being touched?  Is that how much you liked watching Mistress come?”

He nodded, ever so slightly, and you laughed.  Not quite a mocking laugh, moreso impressed.  Prideful, even.  You leaned in to give a wet kiss to his neck, licking over his pulse as he shivered violently.

“That’s my good boy,” you whispered against his skin.  He whined and you cooed soothingly right away, “oh I know, I know.  It’s so unfair, isn’t it?  Mistress gets to come and you don’t…”

“Please,” he stammered, “I’m so close, let me come, please.”

“But I don’t wanna see you come, baby— I wanna see you cry.”

You started to slide your hand down his chest and he jumped up to attention as he tried to squirm away.  “No, please, don’t— don’t touch my cock, not if I can’t come.”

“You can hold it in, can’t you?” you pouted.

“No, I can’t, I can’t,” he sobbed, watching fearfully as your hand moved down to his stomach and over his hips.  

“But I thought you were my good boy,” you frowned, suddenly wrapping your hand tight around his cock as he choked on a gasp.

“Mistress!” he sobbed.  “Please, don’t—  don’t move your hand, I’ll come.”

"Never fucking tell me what to do," you instructed firmly, just barely stroking as he cried weakly.  "I'm gonna touch you however I want and you're not gonna come because you're my good boy, right?"

"No, Mistress, I can't stop it, I'm gonna come— stop, please…"

"You'd better not fucking come," you hissed through your teeth, speeding up your movements and watching his eyes shoot wide open, "you'd better hold it in until I'm done with you."

"I'm trying— please slow down, can't take it—"

You shook your head, tutting disapprovingly.  "No, baby, I tell you what you can take."

"Oh— oh god, Mistress, please, please stop, please, I c-can't— fuck!"

You pulled your hand away the second his cock started to flex but it was too late: come was shooting from his swollen tip and painting his chest and stomach.  You didn't even wait until he was done to backhand him across the face.

"I'm sorry!" he yelled.  "I'm so sorry, I couldn't help it…"

You softened slightly when you heard his broken voice, saw the desperation and fear on his face— it was real, more real than the fake ‘no’s and the encouraging pleas for mercy.  "Baby, it's okay, you tried so hard," you soothed instantly.

Hope filled his eyes just as much as tears as he looked up at you.  "Am I still your good boy?"

"Always," you smiled, caressing his face where it was already turning red from your slap.  

You reached down and caressed his cock with the back of your fingers, watching it flex weakly.  

“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?”

His lip twitched, almost like a wince.  “Do we… do we have to stop?”

You quickly glanced at the clock.  “Um, no,” you mumbled, “we still have time.  Just tell me what you want.”

“I wanna watch you come again…” he admitted softly.  “Is… is that okay?”

Although you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, you were still surprised.  “Yeah, sure.”

“But… but closer this time,” he added, “not so far away.”

You were literally laying on top of him, how did that count as far away? 

“I wanna see your face,” he clarified.

“Okay,” you nodded, deciding to indulge him.  It was sort of like aftercare, except that this wasn’t exactly the ‘after’ part yet.

On your knees beside where he was leaning back against the headboard, you slipped your hand down into the lace panties again, finding your clit still swollen but not too sensitive.  A little gasp fell from your lips when you touched it, rubbing it carefully with two fingers while he looked up at your face.  

You felt slightly exposed when he watched you this close, and you didn’t know where to look to avoid direct eye contact.  Looking at his lips was just a little too tempting, so that wouldn’t work.

“My hands are a little tired,” you explained, “they might cramp up.  Maybe I could use your thigh…”

“O-okay,” he nodded, and you removed your fingers from your panties to sit down on the thick muscle of his leg.  You felt him tense up under you slightly, and you carefully began to rock your hips until your clit rubbed just right against the inside of your underwear.  Surely he could feel how wet you were— actually, you both could hear it, almost a wet clicking-like noise as the soaked lace slid against your skin.

The dynamic shifted slightly, not that you minded it, as he watched you ride him carefully.  Just as he couldn’t hide much from you when he was naked and tied up and baring his soul to you in the kinkiest way possible, you couldn’t hide your pleasure from him when he was looking at your face so up-close.  You let your hands carefully roam his body, narrowly avoiding the trails of cooling come he’d left on his stomach and chest, until you found his strong shoulders and held onto them for balance.

“Fuck,” you mumbled to yourself, biting your lip as your sore clit throbbed against his hard, muscular thigh.  

“Will you… could you kiss me?” he requested quietly, and your heart broke a little bit.  You shook your head, and he nodded in understanding.

“I’ll kiss you here,” you offered instead, whispering against his skin before you pressed your lips to his forehead, then his cheek, then his jaw.  “Is that better, James?”

“It helps,” he agreed in a sigh.  

“I’m close,” you warned quietly, pressing your cheek to his and weaving one hand into his hair.  “I’m gonna come again, on your thigh.”

“Let me touch you,” he begged, “just a little, please…”

You nodded, about to reach forward to untie one of his hands, but he snapped the ropes and you had totally forgotten he could do that.  He quickly ran his touch all over your body, calloused hands and bound wrists in stark contrast to your soft skin.  The metal one was a little cold but it didn’t bother you; the other was almost too hot, and it was like being warmed and cooled all at once.

He ran his fingers down your spine, he gripped one of your shoulders, he rubbed your legs: he did everything he must have been wishing he could do this whole time, even gasping as he ran one hand up your chest and over a cup of your bra.  Just as you sensed that he was about to ask if he could touch you there, you nodded and felt his metal hand tug down the red lace and grab your breast— thankfully not very hard, though he did give your nipple a quick pinch which made you gasp.

Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he finally settled his hands on holding your hips, just tight enough to slightly guide your movements as you rocked faster and more desperately.  “Please come,” he begged weakly, “Mistress, please… use me.”

It sort of hit you all at once then, like a punch to the gut.  Except, you know, a lot more fun than getting punched in the gut.

“James,” you gasped, legs quivering where they straddled his as a new patch of slick soaked the lace (and presumably his thigh as well).  He held you tight, kept you moving through it while your fingers tangled in his hair and your mouth fell slack for another, louder moan.

The way his lips moved over your skin, laving your collarbones and pulse point and the innermost corner of your jaw, was positively worshipful; reverent.  “Mistress,” he whispered, almost sounding like praise but tinted with awe.  Your movements slowed down to a stop and the two of you breathed a sigh together, unintentionally.  “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“What for?” you asked, blinking quickly and looking down at him, coming back to reality (though you weren’t quite sure where else it was that you had just been).

“I dunno, everything,” he decided.

“Don’t thank me,” you smiled.  “Keep paying me, though.”

He laughed a little, glancing away.  “Yeah, and I’ll pay you back for these ropes… sorry."

"No, hey, don't be sorry," you dismissed, getting up off of his leg and standing up to go grab a towel for him.  "I'm just sorry we still haven't found anything strong enough to hold you."

"It's fine, they're strong enough to make me stop myself when I want to do something I shouldn't, that's all that really matters."

You nodded to yourself as you dampened the towel and came back to wipe him off.

"I can do that for myself," he reminded you, sounding a bit embarrassed, but you thought it was sweet. 

“You just focus on getting those ropes off of yourself,” you decided with a little smile.

[hqbbg]

still.

pairing: miya osamu x fem!reader

prompt: “I told you to stay still.”

genre: smut

word count: 5.3K (I got carried away, oops)

warnings: 18+, masturbation, some degradation, oral (f!receiving), fingering, some spanking, vaginal & unprotected s3x (make sure you wrap your presents, kids), like 2 seconds of cockwarming, uhm I think that’s it oop

author’s note: I'm back with another Haikyuu!! Headquarters collab piece! check out the master list of everyone else’s works here ✨ I hope y’all enjoy this!

The air in your room feels thick as you pant helplessly, feeling the familiar ache in your fingers as they begin to cramp up while plunging in and out of your sopping cunt. You feel so close to your own undoing, unable to control your thoughts as they drift to the man whose room is on the other side of your bedroom wall. You can’t help but think that it’s his fingers squelching within your warmth, though you’re sure they would reach much further than yours ever could.

You don’t do this often, touching yourself to the thought of your roommate while he’s out at work or running errands, but lately you’ve been frustrated.

When you had put out an ad for a roommate, you were hesitant. You didn’t have much of a choice, as your last roommate decided to move out in favor of moving in with her boyfriend, leaving you to scramble for a solution in order to continue to afford rent. As a full-time student with a part time job, it would’ve been inconvenient to move out in the middle of the semester, and it seemed reasonable to quickly search for a roommate to help with the bills until your lease was up.

Miya Osamu was hot, to say the least, though it wasn’t the main reason why you ended up choosing him to be your new roommate. On top of having manners and being financially stable, he knew how to cook and respected your space in the apartment. Unfortunately, you’ve been unable to say the same recently. The number of times his room door was cracked open as he changed almost made you consider that he was doing it on purpose, as if encouraging you to take a peek.

As you recall the way his back muscles flexed as he pulled his shirt over his head all those times you’d told yourself that you were just walking by, you let another moan slip past your lips. Your fingers begin to move quicker, toes curling, and you can feel your arm beginning to tire out. Your back arches as your other hand quickly moves to massage your neglected clit, rubbing harsh circles until your vision flashes white.

You fail to hear the front door open and close as your moans continue to fill the room. The memory of seeing Osamu stepping out of the bathroom in a simple pair of grey sweatpants with a towel around his neck is still fresh on your mind. You feel yourself clench around your own fingers as you recall your eyes briefly catching sight of the outline of his cock, the image practically ingrained within you. Too many times have you thought about how it would feel inside of you.

Another moan resonates on the walls and you bite your lip, though it does little to stop you from moaning Osamu’s name. Before you know it, you’re overwhelmed by pleasure and your whole body tenses before it relaxes. Your chest heaves as you lay there, trying to recover from your intense orgasm and you want nothing more than to sleep now. You hardly notice that your door is open.

Over the next few days, you can’t help but feel that something is off with Osamu. Though you aren’t particularly close, you’d like to think that you two have developed some sort of friendship with all the shared meals and evenings spent in the living room just chatting about life.

Did he hear you the other night? There was no way; you made sure to give yourself enough time before he was supposed to come home. Then again, you didn’t hear him come in…

Your cheeks begin to burn at the idea that he’d heard you. You let out a groan as you bury your face in your hands, leaning onto your desk. The little motivation you had to study has effectively disappeared and an unsettling mix of nervousness and shame begins to stir in the pit of your stomach.

Taking a deep breath, you try to push the dreadful thought out of your head and sit upright. An idea suddenly pops into your head and you abruptly stand up. You walk over to your door and poke your head out, scanning the area to locate your roommate. He’s conveniently in the kitchen, snacking on some leftovers he’d brought back from his restaurant the previous night.

“Hey,” you say awkwardly as you step out. He looks over at you and hums in acknowledgement, his mouth full. You decide to go ahead and speak, though your fingers fidget with the hem of your oversized shirt. “You’re not working tomorrow night, right?”

Osamu shakes his head, swallowing his food. “What’s up?”

“Well,” you hesitate, trying to find a way to come off as casually as you can, “I saw this recipe online for some salmon and vegetables, do you wanna be my guinea pig?”

“Sure,” he nods as he shrugs. “What time?”

“Dinner time,” you say, a little too eagerly. “How about seven?”

His lips quirk upwards into a small smile. “Sounds good to me.”

You watch as he takes another bite of his food before you realize you’re staring, clearing your throat.

“Okay, well, have a good night,” you say and quickly scurry back towards your room. Once you shut the door, you release a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding in. You swiftly move back to your desk, your forgotten notes pushed even further aside as you begin to look for that recipe you’d seen all those weeks ago.

The following day, you make a quick trip to the store to buy ingredients and find yourself nervously counting down the hours and minutes until it’s a reasonable time to start making dinner. You step out of your room to see Osamu already perched on a stool at the small island in the kitchen. He’s slouched over, scrolling through his phone when you walk up. He glances up and greets you with a small smile as you place your phone down near the center of the island countertop.

“Okay, so before I start, I just need to say that I’m definitely not a professional chef in any way,” you say as you move to wash your hands. You can feel his eyes on you as you move around the kitchen, pulling the vegetables from the fridge. You grab the apron hanging on the pantry door and sling it over your head, tying it behind your back.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen ya wear that,” Osamu muses as he leans his cheek on his palm. His elbows are both propped up on the counter and you resist the urge to playfully roll your eyes.

“I have to make sure my shirt doesn’t get dirty,” you say, “it’s one of my favorites.”

He says nothing in response, opting for a light chuckle as you begin to wash the vegetables. Once you finish, you pull out the cutting board in front of him on the other side of the island, placing a carrot in the middle.

You open a cabinet and pull out a knife, giving it a quick rinse before positioning the blade to cut through the vegetable. Placing your fingers on the edge, you lift the knife just slightly.

“Hey, be sure to cats paw,” Osamu pipes up, pointing to the hand that’s on the carrot, “If yer not careful, you’ll knick yourself.”

“Huh?” You blink your eyes at him, trying to prevent yourself from sounding like an idiot.

“Like this,” he says, lifting his hand up and curling his fingers inward into a loose fist. You try not to focus on the veins lining his hands, tearing your eyes away and mimicking his motions. You see him drop his hand from your peripherals and finally attempt to cut into the carrot.

Before you know it, the knife slips from your grasp, making a shallow but clean cut across your index knuckle. You let out a curse and hiss as you drop the knife.

“Whoa, are ya okay?” Osamu stands as you begin to make your way to the sink, blocking your path.

“It hurts, but I’m fine,” you reply, looking at him curiously before glancing at your finger. You examine it for a moment, seeing the familiar crimson begin to bead.

“Let me take a look,” says Osamu, gently grabbing a hold of your wrist. He lifts your hand up closer to his face, his eyebrows slightly creasing as you do your best to resist the blush creeping up to your cheeks. “You should be careful.”

“Well, it’s not like this was intentional,” you grumble, unable to meet his eyes. He sighs softly and you glance at him, opening your mouth to say something. However, your train of thought is  completely derailed when his lips wrap around the small incision.

You feel his warm tongue gently lick around it and you can’t help but stare at the way his lips look around your finger. He catches your eyes and pulls away.

“I used to do this to my brother whenever he’d get hurt or something when we were little,” he says, letting go of your wrist. Your face is burning as you drop your hand back down to your side. “Wait here, I’ll go grab a bandage.”

You nod wordlessly, mind still reeling as you try to figure out and process what exactly had just happened. You watch his retreating figure head towards the bathroom, disappearing for only a moment before resurfacing with a familiar pink wrapper with Hello Kitty’s face scattered across the outside cover, a gift he had received from his brother. He makes his way back over to you, pulling the tabs apart and plucking out the bandaid.

Without prompting, you lift your hand up towards him and watch as he moves your hand towards him with his pinky, wrapping it around your finger.

“There, all patched up. Is that too tight?” He asks, picking up the trash and crumpling it in his fist. You lift your hand up and examine his handiwork, nodding in approval.

“It’s perfect,” you say, feeling your stomach flutter at the self-satisfied smirk that’s found its way onto his face. “I still have to cut the vegetables, though.”

“Hand it over; I’ll do it.” He motions towards the knife.

You pout, making no indication to hand the utensil over to him. “I kind of wanted to cut the vegetables though.”

He raises a brow at you. “Are ya sure? Ya already butchered yer first chance; I don’t want blood all over my kitchen.”

“Your kitchen, huh?”

Osamu shrugs. “I hardly see ya in here, so it might as well be.”

“So are you gonna help me or not?” You raise a brow and choose to ignore his statement as you cross the kitchen to grab your phone, pulling up the recipe to skim through the instructions before placing it back down. “I’m supposed to Juliette these vegetables.”

Osamu stays quiet for a moment. “Do ya mean julienne?”

“Yeah, same thing,” you wave your hand dismissively, walking back over to the cutting board. You pick up the discarded knife, giving it a quick rinse. Upon returning to your original spot at the island, your hands position themselves once again, curling your fingers like Osamu had previously shown you.

“Wait, yer gonna end up hurting yourself again,” he says as he walks up behind you. “How thin are ya trying to cut this?”

“About this much,” you reply, positioning the knife towards the edge of the carrot.

“Okay, first things first,” he says as he wraps his arms around you. Your eyes widen as you feel his chest press against your back, his hands moving to hold yours. “Ya have to cut it in half and get a flat surface.”

He grabs your hand holding the knife and moves it to the middle of the carrot, wrapping his thick and long fingers around the handle, completely swallowing yours. He ensures that his grip is stable before pressing down, the blade making a sharp cut.

“Okay, so now that ya have this, ya said ya want to make them look like noodles, right?”

You can only nod your head, afraid that your voice will crack if you choose to speak. Your head feels fuzzy, your senses overwhelmed by the scent of his musky cologne hitting your nose and the way his strong arms continue to guide you. The heat radiating off his chest envelops you in an oddly comforting embrace and something about it feels very domestic. You try hard to keep your knees from buckling under you, shifting your weight between your feet. You immediately tense when you accidentally press your backside against his hips.

Briefly scanning the island countertop, you see that his phone is on the other side where he’d originally left it when you began cooking and try to ignore the sinful thoughts threatening to infiltrate your mind.

“Makes sense?” Osamu says, his lips dangerously close to your ear.

“I-I think so,” you stammer, though you bite your lip and mentally scold yourself for your faltering voice.

“Alright,” he says, taking a step back. You exhale slowly, trying not to think of the loss of warmth. “While ya keep doing that, I’ll prepare the salmon. Where’s the recipe?”

“It’s on my phone.” You nod towards it, setting the knife down. He walks over to the side of the counter you’d left your phone at and brings it over to you. “What’s yer passcode?”

“That’s classified information, sir.” You see his eyes darken for a moment as you pluck your phone from his hand, typing in the digits before placing it in his open palm.

“Never thought you’d be callin’ me that so soon,” he says offhandedly, locating the recipe in your browser. You feel your lips part to say something, but no words come out.

You simply resume cutting the carrot and grab more vegetables, shaking your head to clear your wandering thoughts. You see Osamu grab the salmon from the fridge, pulling it out and getting some seasonings you’d bought earlier.

“Hey, can ya grab a pan from that cabinet there?” Osamu asks as he points to one of the bottom cabinets in front of your legs.

“Sure,” you nod and take a step back, opening the cabinet door and bending over at the hips. You rummage around for a decent-sized pan, feeling Osamu’s eyes on you before you straighten up. He’s quick to avert his eyes as he holds his hand out to you. You place the handle in his open palm and he takes it, setting it on top of the stove.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you prepare your own things, with you seasoning and cooking the vegetables while Osamu prepares the fish, searing it on the pan. As you both finish your portions, you decide to bring out your nicer plates for the occasion.

Opening one of the top cabinets, you stand on your toes to reach for the plates, wondering how they ended up so high to begin with.

“Need help?”

You jump slightly, startled when you feel his body pressed flush against yours with a hand on the dip of your waist as the other reaches above your head to grab two plates, placing them down onto the counter. You turn your head to look at him and realize just how close he is, his face merely centimeters away. His eyes are on your lips as you tongue pokes out to wet them before they flicker upwards to meet your eyes. You look up at him, anticipating his next move with bated breath, and feel his hand that had been holding the plates move to gently hold your jaw. He leans forward just slightly and your eyes flutter shut as your lips meet.

His lips move slowly against yours, though it’s nothing short of passionate. You feel his hand on your waist pull you closer to him and you lean into the warmth. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip and you open your mouth to welcome the warm muscle inside, letting him explore freely.

The both of you seem to run out of air at the same time, pulling away breathlessly. Before you can say anything, he kisses down your jaw to your neck as you crane your head just slightly so he can have better access and you’re not straining your muscles. He nips gently at the skin before dragging his tongue along, finding a particularly tender spot to pay special attention to. A hiss slips past your lips and you’re reminded of how close he is to you when you begin to feel something hardening against your backside.

“If ya wanna stop, ya have to tell me now,” he mutters against your neck as both of his hands settle on your waist, thumbs playing with the hem of your shirt.

“I’d rather not,” you admit rather shamelessly. You can feel Osamu’s lips curve upwards against your skin as his hands give you a slight squeeze.

“If ya say so,” he says before one of his hands reaches between the two of you to untie your apron. “If ya ever need me to stop, let me know.”

You nod your head absentmindedly, slightly dizzy from the reality of what’s happening right now. One of his hands begins to slide upwards from your waist, cupping your clothed breast and giving it a squeeze, while the other slips downwards under your apron and pushes past the waistband of your shorts, hovering over your panties. Suddenly very aware of the wetness between your legs, you move to close them a little.

“That won’t do ya any good,” Osamu mutters against the back of your neck. As if to prove his point, he presses his middle finger against your clothed slit and swipes upward, humming to himself. “Yer practically dripping and I haven’t even started yet.”

A moan slips past your lips and you can only bite your lip in embarrassment at your own shamelessness.

“It’s just the two of us; you don’t have to be quiet,” he says, as if encouraging you to be as loud as you want and disturb your neighbors. When you still refuse to make another noise, he nudges your legs open with his knees, almost forcing you to lean over the counter for support. As if to further prove his point, he pushes your panties aside and slips his middle finger in between your folds, causing you to let out a gasp of surprise at the sudden intrusion.

“Osamu,” you whimper as you feel him kiss his way towards the back of your ear.

“What is it, baby?” His finger is still and unmoving inside of you as you try to gain any sort of friction, attempting to grind your hips against him. His hand doesn’t move as you feel his tongue trace the outer shell of your ear.

“Stop teasing me,” you practically whimper as you ball your hands into fists on the surface in front of you.

“What do ya want me to do?” He sounds smug and you can almost visualize his teasing smirk behind your closed lids.

“Just fuck me,” you say. You fight the embarrassment heating your cheeks, too aroused to focus on anything else.

“I know we’ve been living together for awhile now, but let’s not forget our manners,” he says, beginning to slide his finger out.

“M’Samu, please fuck me!” It comes out too eagerly, too desperately, but you want him to just do something to you.

“That’s all you needed to say,” he lets out a soft chuckle before he slides his finger back in. You find yourself leaning completely on the countertop so you don’t buckle under him and moan when he slides another finger inside, stretching you.

You were right; his fingers reach so much further than yours ever could.

His calloused fingers continue to thrust in and out of you at a steady pace as his other hand that had been on your breast moves down to slip under your shirt. You bite your lip as you feel him expertly unclip the bra before sliding around to cup the flesh, nudging your loose bra aside. His fingers pinch your hardening nipple and you breathe out his name.

“Careful there, sweetheart,” he practically grunts, “if ya keep soundin’ like that, I won’t be goin’ easy on ya.”

Part of you has half the mind to take him up on the offer while the other is failing to form coherent words and thoughts.

A familiar tension begins to pull at your lower abdomen as you feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm. It seems that Osamu’s also aware, quickly slipping his hands out from your dripping cunt.

“Why’d you stop?” You whine as you turn back to look at him. He offers a smirk before removing his hands completely from your pants and lifting his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean. The way his half-lidded eyes are locked on yours as he swirls his tongue around makes you clench helplessly around nothing.

“Don’t worry, yer gonna thank me later,” he says, dropping his hand. He begins to lower himself so he’s on his knees on the ground before he pulls your shorts and panties down in one clean tug. The cool air hits your wet heat and you bite your lip at the sensation.

You watch him with anticipation as he leans forward, using both hands to massage your ass a couple times before spreading the cheeks apart. He nudges your feet so you can spread a little wider for him, which you wordlessly oblige, and inhale shakily as he leans forward and licks a fat stripe up your slit.

“Fuck, Osamu,” you hiss as you turn back to look at him. You use one hand to reach around and weave your fingers through his hair, fisting it as he begins to sloppily lap at your cunt.

His tongue dives in and out, the wet squelch echoing around the apartment. You feel your legs tremble as he angles his head to reach a bit further before opting to have his fingers rejoin the fun. Your moans sound nearly pornographic as you attempt to grip at anything, unable to get yourself to properly stand as Osamu wags his head a couple times, swirling his tongue in the process.

A sharp gasp leaves you when you feel his fingers angle themselves and hit a spot you didn’t even know existed, your walls beginning to clench and flutter around him.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moan, pushing his head deeper against you. You feel him hum against you as if to encourage you to release onto his face, so you do.

A strangled cry erupts from your throat as you feel every nerve ending spark up and you come undone above him. He lets you grind your hips against him a couple more times before he pulls away, breathing heavily as he stands up. He turns you around by your hips and you see your slick coating his lips and chin.

“Look at this mess,” he taunts you, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. You don’t say anything and wrap your fingers around the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to taste yourself. As you do so, he makes quick work to get rid of his sweatpants and pulls away to lift his shirt over his head. You go ahead and do the same with your apron, tossing it onto the island behind him and removing your shirt and bra to leave the both of you stark naked in the kitchen.

You take a brief moment to unabashedly check him out, admiring how toned and built he is. Chewing on your bottom lip, you let your fingers trace along the hardened and defined lines of his abdomen, trailing your fingers down to palm him through his boxers. You see the fabric straining and recognize the heat rising to your cheeks as you feel how hard he is, creating a slightly darkened and damp spot where the head of his cock is located. You glance up at him and meet eyes as you hook your thumbs on his waistband, pulling them down. His length practically springs to life, standing proud and tall before you and your mouth practically waters at the sight.

Wrapping your fingers around the base, you bite your lip as you drag your hand upwards to the tip and collect his beading precum, spreading it around generously with the pad of your thumb before using it as lubricant to continue stroking him.

“Fuck,” he moans softly as you lick your lips, getting ready to get on your knees to return the favor that he so generously had given you moments ago. He grabs your wrist to stop you and you look at him curiously. “As much as I’d love to see you suck my cock, I just want to be inside of that pussy of yours right now.”

The hungry look in his eyes is all you need before you kiss him again, this time much sloppier than the previous ones. He maneuvers you around the kitchen for a moment and before you know it, you’re bent over the island countertop with a leg propped up on the cool surface. You hear Osamu spit into his hand and look back to see him give his thick cock a couple generous strokes before positioning himself with one hand while the other holds your hip.

You feel the bulbous head nudge your lower set of lips apart before slowly easing in, your back arching at the pressure already building inside of you. A soft hiss escapes your throat as you try to take all of him, grateful when he pauses once he’s bottomed out within you. You take a deep breath for a moment and feel your muscles relax slightly as you adjust accordingly.

“Are ya ready?” Osamu’s voice comes out surprisingly soft as he leans over you, placing a kiss between your shoulder blades. You nod quietly before feeling both hands on your hips as he slowly begins to pull out. You realize just how thick he is when you feel empty, though it doesn’t last for long when he slams right back into you. A strangled mewl bubbles from your throat as he begins to thrust in and out of you. You lower yourself onto your elbows on the counter and ball your hands into fists, no longer caring how you sound; you’re too lost in your own wave of pleasure.

As Osamu continues his ministrations, you feel the counter buzz slightly and hazily look around with half a mind to simply ignore it. You see Osamu’s phone shaking across the surface next to your discarded apron, the screen lit up with an unfamiliar name.

“’Samu, your phone,” you say between moans, “your phone is ringing.”

His hips slow, though his thrusts continue to hit deep inside of you. He doesn’t have to reach far to grab it and glances at the screen.

“Shit,” he hisses under his breath. “Stay still for me, will ya?”

You halfheartedly nod your head, though you can’t help but whine at the loss of friction as he stills inside of you.

“Hello?” His voice is even as he answers quickly. “This is Osamu, yes.”

It’s hard to ignore the slight frustration bubbling in your chest as he uses one hand to keep your hips still while the other holds his phone. He continues to speak formally, so you assume it’s probably someone important or has something to do with work. You know better than to tease him in the event that this call is actually important, but you can’t resist the urge to just roll your hips a little.

There’s a slight hitch in Osamu’s voice before he clears his throat, though it sounds more like a warning to you than anything. However, that doesn’t stop you as you grow more bold, deciding to create your own rhythm of shallow thrusts. His grip on your hip tightens, though it’s not enough to hurt you just yet.

“Something just came up, so I’m gonna have to call ya back,” you hear Osamu say, his voice becoming more strained as each second ticks by. When he finally hangs up, the phone smacks onto the table, startling you to a halt.

“Sorry, I couldn’t w-”

“Ya think yer so cute, dontcha? I told ya to stay still.” His voice is dangerously low as he hunches over, practically growling in your ear. You whimper softly in response, feeling the heat radiating off his skin. You’re not sure if you should be as turned on as you are right now, feeling your walls clench around him.

He stands upright and reaches around to grab one of your arms, practically yanking you back so you’re also standing up. His other hand reaches around to grab your other arm, pinning your wrists behind your back.

“If yer gonna act like a slut, I’m gonna fuck ya like one,” he snarls lowly and you resist the urge to moan. He manages to reach for your apron and rolls it up, looping it around your elbows.

As one hand holds your newly bound arms behind your back, the other holds your hips before he begins to pull out of you. You feel his whole length leave you empty with the exception of the tip and you’re about to complain again when you feel him slam back in roughly.

“Is this what ya thought of when ya were touchin’ yerself?”

You hardly contain the cry of mixed pain and pleasure as your back arches, his hips snapping against yours at a relentless pace. You can barely process his words, though you know the embarrassment will hit you later; you simply can’t form coherent enough thoughts to care. The hand that was on your hip leaves but only momentarily before his palm claps against your ass. You yelp in surprise as he releases your arms.

“What, did ya never get spanked as a kid?” Osamu taunts as he rubs the reddening skin. You lean back over, supporting yourself on your elbows. His comment barely processes in your head as he does it again.

Coherent words fail to form as you feel your legs begin to tremble. You’re practically running towards another orgasm and you can tell Osamu is too, based on his unstable rhythm and sloppier movements. You feel one of his hands reach around you to play with your nipples while you let your own hand rub your clit, the sensations overwhelming you in a crashing wave of pure bliss.

As your walls tighten and flutter, Osamu pulls out and fists his cock a couple times before you feel hot ropes of cum paint your back and ass, a guttural groan leaving him.

“Holy fuck,” he pants once he recovers from his orgasm. You’re still shaking, bent over the island, breathing heavily.

A dull ringing can be heard in your ears from the intensity of your climax, but you faintly hear the sink running for a moment. Not long after, you feel a warm and damp towel wipe across the mess on your backside and Osamu’s gentle arm pulls you up.

“Hey, was I too rough on ya?” His voice is soft and you shake your head. He presses a kiss to your forehead as he hands you your clothes from the ground. “Do ya wanna eat now and shower later?”

“Yeah, I’m starving,” you sigh as your head begins to clear up. You look over to your forgotten food, your mouth curving downwards into a frown. “Wait, did you not turn off the stove?”

“I was a little preoccupied.”

[readyplayerhobi]

La Douleur Exquise

; Horse Hybrid!Taehyung x Lovebird Hybrid!Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, smut

; Warnings: Penetrative sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, impregnation kink, filmed sex

; Word Count: 14.9k

; Synopsis: Taehyung is in love with his best friend. The problem? He’s a stallion, a horse hybrid who’s basic instinct is to collect a herd of women to protect and procreate. His best friend is a lovebird hybrid and they mate for life. He knows it’s pretty much impossible to be together and that you’d end up hurt, but what happens when he finds out you love him just as much?

; A/N: So, my first fic in like...two months? I started this fic in early July and honestly...I just wanted it finished. If it seems a bit disjointed or something then it was very stop and start...I hope you all enjoy it anyway and that it doesn’t disappoint or anything! It’s taken a WHILE for me to get back into writing (honestly, I almost left lol). Please reblog if you enjoyed and leave me comments and asks!

-

“Oh...fuck. Fuck, you’re so big, mmm,” The girl on her hands and knees in front of Taehyung moaned, her ass wiggling in desperation as he thrust his hard cock into her soaked pussy. “Harder, please. Please, fuck me harder.”

He hissed as she clenched around him, his entire length disappearing with ease inside her as his hips moved rhythmically. Large hands groped at the globes of her ass, squeezing them and spreading them wide to give the best view possible. Grunting, he slapped at one cheek hard and smirked when she yelped, jerking slightly.

“Such a pretty girl, so pliant and willing, hmm?” Taehyung questioned, his voice low and brusque as he moved hard enough to cause the room to be filled with the sound of skin slapping on skin. “A greedy pussy, so eager for your stallion to get you in foal, aren’t you?” 

She moaned in response, her face unseen to him but her body reacted by squeezing around his cock once more. Running one hand along her spine, he hummed in delight before leaning forward and biting down on her shoulder. It was instinctual, something deep in his genes telling him to hold her steady while he filled her up and impregnated her.

His other hand moved down to her clit, the bundle of nerves still soft and silky with her excitement but also swollen hard with her impending orgasm. Years of experience let his fingertips find the exact spot he needed, swirling them in quick circles and making her cry out even louder, hips bucking beneath him.

“That’s a good mare,” He panted, trailing his nose along her neck slowly. “Come for me, come on, you can do it. Tighten that pussy around me and I’ll breed you as you want.” 

Her orgasm hit seconds later, body convulsing tightly around him and he grunted, hips jerking forward even more rapidly. She was whining, a babbling mess beneath him as he continued to stimulate her, the effects being just as pleasurable for him too until he too came.

Pressing into her hard, he felt the slight resistance of what must be her uterus against the tip of his cock but she didn’t complain of any pain. One of the benefits of being a fellow horse hybrid was that a mare was biologically compatible with the large cock stallions had. One hand held her hips steady, making sure she didn’t move away as his balls convulsed rhythmically, each time causing his cock to twitch as he continued to ejaculate inside her.

She was breathing hard now, her body covered in a fine layer of sweat that caught the light perfectly and he hummed in appreciation, finally feeling the end of his orgasm. Slowly, he pushed himself upright and licked at his lips as he gave a few, shallow thrusts to wring out his final moments of pleasure and also make sure she got all of his cum.

“You were a good girl for me. We’ll get a nice colt or filly from you.” He mutters, stroking along her back appreciatively. Her skin was darker in certain patches and lighter in others, a result of her American Paint Horse breeding. It was pretty and he let his fingers trail along with the colour distinction.

Finally, though, he pulled out. The noise as he did so was extremely wet, but that was nothing compared to the rush of thick, white cum that slipped out of her used pussy. Pursing his lips, he looked it over carefully before dragging his fingers through some of it and pushing it back inside her. It didn’t matter, stallions were renowned for the large amount of semen they produced and she was probably filled inside.

“And cut!” Called the director, his voice interrupting the silence of the set. Taehyung let out an immediate sigh of relief and sat back, his cock rapidly softening now that the scene was over. His co-star sat up with a groan, stretching to get out the kinks in her back from the position she’d been in for the last ten minutes.

As she did so, the trickle of cum once more became a torrent, slipping down her thighs to collect on the bed. She didn’t pay attention to it and he didn’t say anything, the two of them used to scenes like this by now. Wheein was a consummate professional and one of the best in the porn industry, just like Taehyung.

“That was a good scene,” She complimented him, smiling in gratitude to her assistant who brought a robe that she used to cover herself up with. “Even if the whole ‘dirty talk’ is a little overdone nowadays.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes in agreement, grinning as he accepted the cleaning wipes from his assistant. Without a care in the world, he began to wipe his cock clean as he continued on his discussion with Wheein. She was quickly wiping down her thighs and between her legs as well. They’d both clean up more properly when they went to their dressing rooms but he wouldn’t be seeing her again after this.

Not unless they worked on the same set again.

“Right? It’s so fucking cringe. I wish they’d hire someone who’s an equine if they’re going to write a script featuring two of us. Who even talks like that?” He muttered, tugging on his robe and tying it closed before slipping his feet into the sandals provided to him.

The laugh Wheein gives is sweet, making her entire face light up. She really is a beautiful woman and her body is equally divine, only made even better by her kind and bubbly personality. Not that she’d been able to show that during this scene of course.

It struck Taehyung that she’d probably make a good mare for his herd. Despite the fact they were lamenting how lame the script was that they’d been given, there were some truths to what they’d filmed. A stallion like Taehyung would actively seek out fertile mares from good stock for his herd to breed with.

The better quality the mare’s breeding, the better his foals would be. 

At least, that’s what horse hybrids were meant to do. Wheein would probably even agree to it if he asked. He knew that she wasn’t in a herd already and she’d made it pretty clear to him that she’d be open to something outside of their work if he wanted. His deeply-rooted instincts demanded that he take her home and breed her properly, but he just sighed deeply instead.

He may be a horse hybrid, with all the possessive and protective instincts that provided him as a stallion, but he had no actual interest in living his life like that. Which is why he makes a little more small talk with Wheein before leaving to go to his dressing room. The shower he takes is quick, making sure to rub viciously at his body as he tries his hardest to remove any scent of the mare he’d just fucked.

Hybrids were something that had been created long ago. So long ago, no one knew how they were made anymore. The knowledge had been lost in the Hybrid Revolution, three centuries ago when hybrids had refused to be slaves for their human masters anymore. Ever since they’d been treated as equals to everyone else in society.

That didn’t mean that they’d integrated fully of course. Hybrids of different species more often than not stayed with each other or mated with humans. It did happen though, but the differing instincts meant it often was better for a hybrid to simply stay within their species.

Something Taehyung had always found amusing though was the fact that even within their species, a lot of hybrids would only mate within their own ‘breed’. Wheein was a pure American Paint Horse, coming from a long line that could be traced back to when the humans had been breeding horse hybrids for manual labour, protection services and sports purposes.

Back then, the humans treated hybrids exactly like actual horses. They had a studbook and would breed stallions to certain mares to produce characteristics they wanted. Placid nature, easy to work with, intelligent, quick to learn and so forth. When they’d been released, the breeds had continued on the studbooks to this day.

There were plenty who didn’t follow that ideology, of course, Taehyung’s parents were not the same breed after all, but a lot seemed to put stock in being ‘purebred’. It was just another way to act superior in his opinion.

Besides, his parents may not be from the same breed but he was still technically a breed all of his own. His mother was an Arabian while his father a Thoroughbred, meaning he was a breed called an Anglo-Arab. That was considered a breed in its own right, though perhaps not as prestigious as either of his parents.

Whatever he didn’t care about all that. Taehyung had no real interest in following the cultural norms of his heritage. And the reason for that was waiting for him back at his apartment. The thought of that spurred him into cleaning up even faster, making sure he was squeaky clean before pulling on the clothes he’d removed earlier in the day.

Glancing in the mirror once finished, he sighed deeply and looked himself over. A quirk of his kind was that they looked distinctly hybrid in ways that didn’t match others.

A dog hybrid may have the ears of a spaniel while a cat could have the tail of a Persian. Horse hybrids didn’t have any of their animal counterpart’s physical characteristics though, no tails or ears or anything like that. But their animal genes had manifested uniquely in their skin and hair.

If someone was a bay then they would have brown skin in a range of shades while their lower arms, legs and the space around their mouths and nose would be even darker and their hair a luscious black. Taehyung blended a little better than most other horse hybrids, but for others like Wheein, it was more obvious. Her skin was covered in patches of alternating dark and light while her natural hair grew in white and dark brown.

He knew that certain breeds had distinct characteristics as well. An old high school friend was a Friesian with coal-black skin and the most luxuriously thick, wavy black hair. One of his Taehyung’s siblings, on the other hand, had a Lipizzaner mare in his herd; her skin and hair was snow white. It certainly made them easily identifiable.

Taehyung wasn’t quite so obvious. His palomino colouring was visible; pale white hair that was a little too long and softly tousled matched with rich golden skin. Broad shoulders tapered down into a slim waist, currently covered in a loose white button-up. His hair was still wet, dripping onto his shirt while his strong thighs and calves were contained within equally loose-fitting tan trousers. 

He didn’t look like someone who’d just filmed pornography, but then again, what did that look anyway? Just a person? Still, he felt a small sense of satisfaction at how well he was going to blend. The last thing he wanted was to go home and have it look obvious what he’d just been doing, even if it was his job.

Chewing on his lip, he grabs his leather cross shoulder bag and exits the dressing room. He promised to get takeout tonight, and he wasn’t going to renege on that deal.

-

“I have food!” Taehyung calls out, placing the bag of takeout he’d just picked up on the kitchen counter before shrugging off his jacket. By the time he gets back from hanging it up, you’ve already emerged from your bedroom and are pulling plates out of the cupboard while trying to see what he’d gotten.

“What did you get? Chinese?” Looking up at him with a raised brow, Taehyung’s heart stutters for a moment at just how pretty you are. There’s not a trace of makeup on your face right now, you didn’t bother when you were at home, and yet you were still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Like him, you were also a hybrid. The two of you had met in the first class of freshman year in college and had quickly become best friends, despite the differences between you both. He’d also fallen deeply in love with you at some point, even though he knew nothing could happen.

Just as he was driven by the instinct to have sex with multiple women to form a herd, you were driven by your instincts. Only yours were dictated by your lovebird genetics, which meant that you were strictly monogamous. As in, once you entered a relationship and truly fell in love with them then you would never have another relationship.

The antithesis of a horse hybrid then. Taehyung had long known that it meant he would never be able to be with you the way he wanted. You craved monogamy and it simply wasn’t in his genes.

So he’d stayed your best friend, and for the last five years since finishing college, he’d also remained your roommate. The two of you shared a mid-sized apartment in the city centre, close to the university that you worked at as a music professor and within easy driving distance of his workplace.

“No, there’s a new Ethiopian place that’s opened close to work. Seokjin was telling me about it it’s a vegan restaurant and I thought it’d be cool to try it out. No idea what you’d like, or what I’d like, so I just got a bunch of things to try.” Smiling at you, he starts to pull out the carefully packaged food and chuckles as you ‘ooh’ at it all.

“Oooh, I’ve never had Ethiopian food before. I’m excited.” And then you turn that blinding smile onto him and he has to let out a deep breath as slowly as possible to stop himself from doing something silly. He’s long been used to his feelings yet you still make him feel like a teenager again.

Once everything’s out, the two of you take it over to the little table that’s set up between the kitchen and the living room and lay it all out. You quickly dart over to the fridge and grab some water for the two of you before settling down and humming in excitement as everything is unpackaged.

Like Taehyung, you didn’t have many physical attributes of your animal side. Which would have been exceptionally strange given the difference between humans and birds. What you did have though, were black irises to match your pupils and the most exquisitely beautifully coloured hair. The front was a blend of peach, yellow and red which slowly morphed into the familiar lovebird green.

It was all-natural and incredibly pretty, suiting your face and personality so well. The original purpose of lovebird hybrids had been as companions due to their loyalty to their partner alongside musical pursuits. Not everyone was great at music but more often than not, lovebird hybrids tended to excel at singing.

Taehyung loved to hear you sing. Or play the piano or any of the other instruments you’d learnt how to play over the years. You were practically a prodigy when it came to the musical arts and he would forever be in awe of just how talented you were.

Your singing was one of the reasons he’d fallen for you so quickly; your buoyant and always effervescent personality had made him determined to befriend the sweet lovebird hybrid in his class. But it was your singing that had truly captured his heart.

The sweet sound of your voice could be as light as a dandelion seed on a summer breeze or swell as loud and strong as a hurricane. He’d been immediately fascinated the moment he’d first heard you sing and it had never let him go. Taehyung genuinely couldn’t imagine his life anymore without hearing your singing around the apartment; from the quiet songs when you were concentrating to the ones you belted out when you were in a happy mood.

He loved it all. As cheesy as it would sound, he just knew that his life would be dull and quiet without his music-obsessed, colourful, chatty best friend. Which was why he couldn’t give up the small hope of something with you. It was a tiny chance, but as long as you remained unattached then it was there all the same and he would grab onto it tightly.

“Did your shoot go well today?” You distract him out of his wayward thoughts with your question and it takes a few seconds of it to truly penetrate his mind and for him to understand. Almost immediately though, it causes him to twist his lips as he begins to spoon out the food he wants from the containers onto his injera, Ethiopian flatbread, that covers his plate. He hated talking about his job to you. It was like a reminder of what he couldn’t have every time.

But he was a big boy, so he took in a deep breath before looking back at you and giving you his trademark boxy smile. 

“It went okay, nothing went wrong which is always a good thing. Wheein was nice and very pleasant to work with, good at her job. The script was just as bad as I originally thought.” Snorting at the memory, he takes a mouthful of food and chews thoughtfully as he takes in the new flavours.

“Let me guess...full of lots of over-the-top horse innuendos and dirty talk?” Chuckling to yourself, you take a drink of cold water before tilting to your head to look him over carefully. Taehyung pauses, unsure of himself for a second before quirking his brow at you.

“Yeah, something like that. I shouldn’t be complaining really...no one watches what I make for the dialogue.” He’s very aware that there’s a slight pout to his lips as he looks back down at his plate, missing the way your expression changes to one of sympathy and protectiveness.

“Well...true I guess, but you’re a great actor outside of that. And I’m not just saying that to you because you’re my best friend TaeTae. You’re genuinely good.” Now he does look at you, taking in the way you look at him with concern and he feels a flare of guilt rise in his stomach. Taehyung would never let you know that the only reason he’d started to work in the pornography industry during college was so that he could satiate his desires without dating multiple women or accidentally creating a herd.

The fact that he was still doing it, seven years after beginning, was because he still held out hope. He knew that he could’ve been something better, entered the world of television or film acting, maybe even theatre. But it would have meant having to flaunt an unending trail of women in front of you.

At least he had a valid and acceptable reason for fucking so many women as a pornstar. The fact that he had no emotional connection to the women who worked alongside him now was a bonus, allowing you to see that he was more than capable of leaving his work in the studio.

Giving you a tight smile, Taehyung nods his head in appreciation. “Thanks, chirp. I appreciate it. And I know, but I think it’s too late now. Too old, you know?” 

“Pfft, no way. There are loads of actors who didn’t start their careers until they were older! And no offence, but you’re a guy so you’ve got the kind of lifespan that most women aren’t allowed. You’re only twenty-nine!” The outraged response from you is almost immediate, the piece of injera almost flying out of your hand at your reaction.

Thankfully, you’d just eaten the vegetable wat that you’d scooped up already so there wasn’t any risk of the floor or wall being decorated with Ethiopian stew. That would just be a waste of some good food in Taehyung’s opinion.

But that was irrelevant. 

What was relevant was your vehement defence of Taehyung and his talents. The two of you had had this conversation many times over the years and yet it never failed to make him smile. You were adamant he could do better and he knew that he could too. But he didn’t want to. Despite how good his acting was, he had no real interest in actually taking it up as a career outside of porn.

He didn’t care for the lifestyle or travelling or fame. Porn worked well for him at the moment. It satisfied his instincts, it paid well enough and he had a manager that ensured Taehyung only received the best directors, co-stars and films.

What Taehyung would love to do, was to work in fashion design. He loved putting together interesting and unique looks while also thinking up ideas for clothes. His best friend, Jimin, had started a clothing brand of his own a few years ago thanks to the money his parents had loaned him. It was doing pretty well so far and Jimin was constantly sad that Taehyung wouldn’t join him.

The older man, he was only two months older but that meant everything to Park Jimin, had tried everything he could think of to lure his best friend into his company. From offering a creative director role to his sub-brand that would operate almost independently from the parent brand, Calico. And Taehyung had promised him that he’d accept one day.

He would as well. Just not yet. It wasn’t time yet. 

“Thanks. Anyway, how was your day? Didn’t you say you had some exams this morning or something?” His segue into another conversation works like a charm and you happily begin to complain about the exams that you’d given your freshman students today. It still boggled his mind that you’d willingly insert yourself into college life again, even if it was in a teaching role but you seemed to thrive in the social aspect of it all.

The two of you continue to talk until there’s no food left, every single piece happily was eaten. Admittedly, most of it was eaten by Taehyung as he had a far larger appetite than you did. It was even bigger today given the workout he’d done during his work hours but you’d been content to hand over what you didn’t want to eat anymore.

Or rather, you’d been content to feed him what you didn’t want. Something he’d had to get used to very early on in his friendship with you was that you retained the instinct to feed those you were close to. That’s what you’d told him anyway, though if he was to be entirely honest he hadn’t seen you feed anyone else before.

Then again, none of the friends you both shared in common was the kind of people who would accept being fed, no matter how much they liked you.

It’s a few hours later that you’re both ready to go to bed; eyes sleepy and movements slow after watching three episodes of The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina while curled up beneath the couch blanket as you both digest your food. Taehyung could have happily fallen asleep where he was, the warmth of you not close enough for him to feel but your scent strong enough to lull him into a peaceful slumber.

“I’m going to bed.” You say loudly, causing him to jerk awake quickly as you push the blanket off your body and stand up. It’s not as quick as you’d normally be but the stretch you give combined with the extraordinarily big yawn lets him know you’re pretty tired.

Not a surprise. It was after 11 pm now and you’d been up since 5:30 am to make sure you had everything set for your classes. A slight wobble as you lose your balance causes him to jump up, resting a hand on the small of your back gently to provide careful assistance while he reaches for the remote with his other to turn off the television.

“Careful, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” Taehyung chuckles, kicking away the blanket which had also become tangled around your feet. A quiet hum from you lets him know that you’re more tired than he’d initially thought.

Not saying anything more, he runs his free hand through the pale blonde strands of his hair as he directs you towards your bedroom. The door is closed to the outside world, unlike his, but the interior is familiar to him once you open it up.

One of the habits you had that came from your lovebird side was that you liked to nest. Which meant your bedroom had everything you loved arranged exactly how you wanted it. Your bed was a canopy style, completely cocooned away from the world except for the entrance. He’d been in once or twice to wake you up when you’d been late for something and he would admit to being fascinated by just how dark and...comfy it all looked.

Soft sheets, multiple fluffy pillows and more covered the top of your bed. He’d love to see what it was like to sleep in it one night because it looked like it could easily be one of the comfiest nights of sleep he’s ever had. A bonus would be if you slept next to him.

One of the more fortunate, or unfortunate depending on how you looked at it, aspects of his heritage was that Taehyung could sleep anywhere. He’d even been known to sleep standing up, which meant that he wasn’t that bothered about what his sleeping space looked like.

Taehyung knew it was something of an honour for him to be even allowed in your bedroom, to be honest, given how protective and territorial you got over your own space. It had been amusing for him to realise this at first, particularly given he wasn’t particularly bothered when it came to his own physical space but upon realising you wouldn’t let anyone else in, he’d used it as a badge of pride.

To himself, of course. No one else would care or even be surprised that your best friend and roommate was the only person allowed in.

Shaking his head, he wishes you goodnight before closing your door quietly and heading to the bathroom for his nightly ritual. The downside to being a porn actor was that he had to follow a proper skincare routine to make sure his skin looked the best. Because obviously, people were paying attention to his beautiful face instead of his massive dick.

Not.

Still, it helped to book more shoots. He had a ‘statuesque’ face that appealed to women or something. So he went along with it and had, admittedly, fantastic skin as a result.

The last thought before he finally fell asleep was that he was pretty sure the oversized black sweatpants you’d been wearing were his.

-

Taehyung doesn’t get to see a whole lot of you in the next few weeks. He’d ended up having to travel for a shoot that lasted a week and by the time he got back, you were on a much-needed vacation with your friends. As such, he was getting a little grumpy at the lack of interaction with you.

Which was entirely the reason that he’d almost jumped on top of you when you’d finally walked through the apartment door; three long weeks after seeing you last. You’d let him know that you’d be coming home today and he’d had to wait as patiently as he could on the couch, pouting at the fact you hadn’t accepted his offer of going to the airport to meet you.

But with everything in the apartment turned off, he’d used his superior hearing to the best of his abilities and had listened as hard as possible for your footsteps. After so many years, he knew exactly what you sounded like when you walked.

So when he finally heard that familiar beat, alongside the rolling of the wheels on your suitcase, he’d leapt up. There may even be a hole in the wall from how forcefully he’d yanked the door open, his excitement causing him to not pay attention to his strength for a moment before he’s giving you the biggest and brightest grin he possibly can.

“I missed youuuuuu!” Whining loudly, Taehyung wraps his arms around your waist and lifts. The squeal you let out soon dissolves into laughter when he spins you around, mentally marvelling once more at how light you were while his sense went haywire with you so close again. He could feel the softness of your hips as he lets you down, smell the soft peach of your shampoo along with the slight hint of sweat after so long travelling. 

It was perfect, and something deep within him relaxed.

You were home. You were safe.

“I missed you too, Tae! Can I please actually come in?” Your laughter is sweet, infectious as always and he stands to the side to let you enter the apartment. Without even asking, he gently takes the handle of your suitcase from you and lifts it with no complaints, heading over to your bedroom.

Given he’s not facing you anymore, he doesn’t see the way you practically swoon at the sight of him using his strength so casually. Or the way you almost drool at his broad shoulders in the plain white shirt he’d thrown on today, the muscles working in a way that made your hands twitch.

“Did you have a good time? Please tell me that Yeji doesn’t have some embarrassing story again this year,” While your yearly vacations with your friends were mostly for sunbathing and catching up, he knew that you all enjoyed re-enacting some college years and that copious amounts of alcohol were drunk. “And I’m not saying about you, I mean just embarrassing full stop. I’m still feeling secondary embarrassment over two years ago.”

“A story which will forever remain buried, thank you very much. But no, we were good this year. Or rather, we weren’t good but I think we’re starting to get a little too old to be drinking so heavily, you know? We can’t recuperate the same way and I get hangovers way too easily. I do not have the physiology to cope with their drinking levels!” There’s a slight whine to your voice, making him smile in amusement as he moves over to lean against the doorway of your room.

While he was fully welcome into your space, he knew that you liked it to be your own. Especially when you’d been away for a while.

“Well, I mean...you are a lovebird. I don’t think there are many alcohol-tolerant birds out there.” That gets him a subtle glare, your pretty lips puckered into a pout. It’s an innocent action, something that shouldn’t bother him in the slightest, and yet his heart stutters and his stomach twists on itself.

What he wouldn’t give to kiss you.

Shaking his head, he tries to force the thoughts out of his mind. Honestly, he was perfectly fine when he was away from you. But when you were around, it was like you were all he could think about. Still, it was hard not to when you looked at him so fondly.

“True. There’s no need to point that out though. Salt in the wound much? Anyway, it was fun. They kept trying to get me to swim in the sea but like...no thank you. Water is for drinking and washing, not for swimming around in.” You’re crouched down, unzipping your suitcase and pulling out the dirty clothes before separating them into the individual bins you have.

Unlike Taehyung, who simply separated his clothes when it came time to wash them, you were very tidy and had bought fancy clothes hamper with three sections. This was probably why Taehyung would accidentally end up with a shrunken shirt or pink underwear from time to time. You paid far more attention to that stuff.

“Swimming is fun though.” Is all he responds with, standing back when you carry the laundry hampers past him. Putting the colours into the washing machine, he watches quietly as you add everything before turning it on. It was fascinating how you’d only been home for less than ten minutes and yet you were already cleaning things up.

Not that he’d made the apartment untidy or anything. It’s just you had a different idea of what was clean to him.

“Okay but, you can say that because you’ve got those shoulders to cut through the water. Not to mention you’re strong anyway. Not so fun for the rest of us. And I don’t mind swimming in a pool. Where I can see the bottom and the size is posted. The ocean though? That’s huge. No thanks.” Smirking, he flops down onto the couch and sighs happily when you push him up before sitting down yourself, letting him rest his head on your thighs.

There was no convincing you though and Tae gave up on the argument pretty quickly, not that he was trying too hard. One thing he’d learnt long ago was that you were perhaps the most stubborn person he’d ever known. It was an endearing trait, most of the time.

“Did you audition for that role?” Your question is innocent, soft fingers trailing through his hair that would have him purring if he was a cat hybrid. Instead, it was just making him get the urge to groom you in turn, his fingers twitching with the need. Ignoring it, he forced himself to just enjoy the touch.

“Yeah. Not sure if I’ve got it though. I got the feeling they weren’t looking for someone like me in the role.” It wasn’t surprising really and he wasn’t offended by the producers of the film he’d gone for. Even porn wanted specific people for specific roles sometimes; it would be silly to think he could get every role he went for.

Not to mention exhausting.

“Well, they’re missing out then,” You say, scratching his scalp until he hums in delight. “Anyone who doesn’t want you is missing out.”

Your words make his heart jump, his breath stuttering as he inhales and wonders if there’s a double meaning to that. But you’re too busy watching the show that you’ve started on Netflix to notice Taehyung’s existential dilemma. Part of him is glad, but there’s another part that wishes he was brave enough to bring it up.

He chooses not to engage with it though, instead just sighing and letting himself relax into the cushions of the couch. It’s nice to be surrounded by your scent once more and to feel your warmth.

“I appreciate that, Chirp. But I’m not letting it get me down. Sometimes they just can’t handle all this.” Gesturing half-heartedly to his body, he’s pleased to hear you laugh at his joke. The sound is sweet, even if the two of you lapse into a comfortable silence after that. 

You’re too busy watching your show while he’s half dozing off, eyes closed and breath getting deeper as he starts to drift away. It’s comfortable on the couch, with the temperature just right and his body perfectly relaxed. Which means it’s unsurprising that he falls asleep pretty quickly, completely unaware of anything that’s happening around him as he sleeps.

-

Taehyung is more than a little disoriented when he finally awakens; the room dark and silent with the lights and television switched off. Frowning, he blinks rapidly before rubbing at his eyes with a hand while sitting up. Stretching his arms out above his head, the groan he lets out is one of relief as stiff muscles relax and a few bones crack.

Reaching out to the coffee table blindly, he grabs his phone and winces when the bright light almost blinds him. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been hugely blessed with the better night sight horses had. Well, he could see better than humans but nothing amazing. Didn’t make it any better when he was subjected to bright light suddenly though.

“Ah, fuck.” He curses, squinting until he can finally focus on the screen. It’s not too late, but it’s a good two hours or so since you’d finally gotten home. Frowning, he just sits there for a moment as his mind finally catches up with the fact he is awake.

Yawning loudly, he finally pulls himself up and decides he should probably go shower before collapsing into bed. Taehyung hadn’t even realised he was tired, but it could have been the comfort of knowing you were back and safe. It wasn’t like he was some over-protective asshole who needed to know your every movement - more that he just felt more content when he knew you were okay.

Walking to his room, he’s scratching at his exposed stomach lazily when he hears the sound of your voice. The door leading to your bedroom is firmly closed but there’s light at the gap on the bottom. His enhanced hearing means that he can easily hear everything you’re saying, which is nothing new.

Over the years though, he’s learnt to carefully block out anything you’re saying when you’re in your room. You deserved your privacy, even if he couldn’t help the fact that he could hear everything perfectly.

And that would have been exactly what he would have done right now. Just carried on through to his bedroom and continued with his plans. Only he can’t help but stop when he hears the familiar syllables of his name. Taehyung knows it’s wrong, but the way you said it is different than normal.

He can’t help but listen, expression curious and his head tilting without even realising it. Your conversation is one-sided but he pays careful attention, still in the middle of the hallway.

“-you know Taehyung, he’s always being attentive and sweet. It’s just his nature, he’s like that with everyone. Yuna...it’s just Tae. He hugs everyone, you’re looking too much into it,” There’s a longer pause now, presumably your best friend talking extensively to you. “Come on, isn’t that what you always tell me? We haven’t seen each other in a while, it’s not surprising he got all touchy.”

Taehyung frowns, lips twisting as he begins to understand a little. Or at least, he thinks he does. If he’s right, Yuna thinks that he likes you. His cheeks heat up as he realises how obvious he’d been with his feelings, even though you make a good argument against it. But you’re wrong and Yuna is very much right.

He does like you, and he’s not quite as touchy-feely with everyone else. Taehyung isn’t even sure how you got that opinion. The only other person he’s remotely as affectionate with is Jimin, and that’s only because he’s known the calico cat hybrid since they were babies. Tae’s mom had worked with Jimin’s mom for decades now, which meant they’d grown up with each other.

“Yuna,” Your whining now, voice going high pitched and your words getting longer. “I thought you were the one who was telling me that I need to get over Tae! And now you’re telling me he’s obviously into me? Make up your mind, woman! Do you want me to ignore my feelings for him or consider telling him? And no, you can’t backtrack in a week or so like you always do. This is serious. I’d be humiliating myself by telling him.”

It’s almost like the world has paused around Taehyung. For a second, he almost feels dizzy and has to rest a palm against the wall as he sways. Your feelings...for him? Did he hear that right? Was he twisting your words into what he hoped you were implying?

Before he can contemplate it anymore in his mind, you go on to say something that shatters the norm for Taehyung.

“It would be humiliating Yuna, you know that. You know what I am, we’ve talked about this. God, I can’t tell Taehyung I love him because then that’s it, I’ve sealed my fate and I won’t be able to get over him. It’s already hard just trying. Having him know? I can’t, not when he can’t give me what I want.��� There’s a pain in your voice and his heart twists, stomach bubbling in a way that almost makes him want to vomit as his world changes.

You love him. You.  Love. Him.

“It’s not his fault Yuna, we’ve gone through this so many times. I have my instincts and he has his, I’m not going to get angry at something we can’t change. Please...can we just talk about something else? Something that’s not going to make me cry and spend all night thinking? We agreed that we’d try to get me over this, dammit.”

That’s the last thing Taehyung hears as he walks quickly back to his room, having decided that he’s heard far too much of a conversation he clearly shouldn’t have heard. Guilt roils in him, flooding his veins as he flops down onto his bed and stares at the white ceiling of his room. He feels dazed and confused, not sure what he’s meant to think about this sudden change in events.

Taehyung being in love with you was something he’d long ago accepted. But he’d also accepted that nothing would happen from it because of what you wanted in life. Finding out that you wanted him too was game-changing. It was also heartbreaking to know that the only reason you both weren’t together already was because of his instincts.

Suddenly, he sees his career in a whole new light. What was a coping mechanism for him to reduce his innate desires and allow him to give you all the best bits of himself, was probably pure pain for you. The knowledge that you loved him was both exciting and, surprisingly, horrifying.

He knew that love birds would only have one partner, and from what he’d read over the years it meant they only really truly loved one person. If you felt this strongly for Taehyung then did that mean he’d stolen any other choices from you? He’d been holding back to make sure you had a chance to be happy but had he just made it worse?

Swallowing thickly, Taehyung realises there are tears in his eyes as he wonders if he’s ruined everything. The logical part of his mind knows that it’s not his fault if you’ve fallen in love with him, just like it wasn’t your fault he’d fallen for you. But he certainly hadn’t done anything to truly push you away, to try and get you to find someone else to fall in love with and enjoy a happy life.

Had he been selfish? 

Rolling onto his stomach, he buries his head into his pillow and lets out a yell. It’s a good job your hearing is only on the level of a normal human because he was positive the extended noise he made would have brought you running otherwise. And he needed to think right now.

There’s probably a solid ten minutes of silence in his room as he lays there, unmoving while his mind races through all his options. If he admitted that he’d overheard you, then he would probably embarrass you. Taehyung would jump at the chance to finally date you, but he knew that you wouldn’t be able to cope with his career.

You were supportive of him now, but you weren’t in a romantic relationship with him. And he doubted you would be comfortable with the knowledge that he was coming home to kiss, cuddle and have sex with you after having done the same things with random women earlier in the day.

If he was honest with himself then Taehyung knew that he wouldn’t be happy with that too. Despite how he was raised, his mom had been one of many mares in the herd his father had kept over the years, he wanted to be the one for you. Which meant he wouldn’t be content to do things with other women that you only wanted to be done.

He wanted the traditional relationship that many horse hybrids would wrinkle their nose at.

So, he had to figure out how to navigate that.

Lifting himself, he grabs his phone and opens up Google. Taehyung didn’t know many horse hybrid’s who wanted to have a monogamous relationship, but he had met a few over the years. Racking his brain, he tries to remember what they had talked about when he’d queried how they could cope with only being with one partner for life.

Despite his interest in the topic, he’d been young at the time and had still very much enjoyed sleeping with as many women as he could. His feelings for you hadn’t quite become what they were today, so he hadn’t listened too intently. Taehyung regretted that now. Tapping his lips for a moment, he contemplates what to write before he begins to type his request into the search engine.

Horse hybrid hormone inhibitors.

-

It’s three weeks later when Taehyung finally feels comfortable and knowledgeable enough to make a move. He’d made an appointment with his doctor the very next day after overhearing your conversation. He specialised in hybrid care, in particular those for equine hybrids like Taehyung along with the rare donkey or zebra.

Which meant he wasn’t all that shocked at Taehyung’s unusual enquiry. He probably got the occasional query from an equine hybrid about how to be monogamous. It was rare but not unheard of after all. What had shocked him though, was the fact that it was Taehyung asking it.

Kim Taehyung, the infamous porn star who had built a living on his ability to fuck his way through multiple women on camera. Who had his damn fanbase based almost purely on his cock for god’s sake? It was embarrassing to think about, but he’d known what he was getting into when he’d signed the contract in the first place.

He wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t enjoy his job because he did. Taehyung hated that he did, but the sex with many women helped to alleviate all those deeply held instincts and urges within him. Still, now that he knew about you he had no intention of carrying on with his career. Not when he had a chance.

Which was why he’d admitted his feelings towards you to the doctor. Something he’d never thought he’d end up doing, but once everything was out in the open then his doctor was far more understanding of Taehyung’s request. Even encouraging of it. Taehyung was pretty sure that he found the whole story a little sweet and romantic.

Either way, they’d worked out a plan for him to make his life easier if you accepted him. Medications that he would need to take to reduce the overwhelming instincts that drive his hybrid nature and would allow him to engage in monogamy. The idea of that was unbelievably exciting and he’d begun to take his medication only days after the appointment.

After that, he’d gotten together with Jimin. Their weekly hangout usually occurred in a bar, a restaurant or sometimes just hanging around one of their apartments. His best friend had shrieked with delight when Taehyung had explained his predicament and what he was doing to go forward with.

Which had led him to finally asking Jimin if that job offer was still on the plate if everything went right. Taehyung wanted to finally pursue his dream of being a fashion designer and it was so tantalisingly close. He was on the verge of finally having the life he’d always wanted. Hopefully with you.

The first week of being on the medication, which reduced the high levels of testosterone he produced and helped to inhibit his base reactions, had been rough as hell. Taehyung had been on the verge of calling in sick for the first time to a shoot, his body struggling to cope with the change in his body. But he’d pushed through and two weeks later, here he was.

Nervous as fuck and waiting for you to finally come home. 

Everything all depended on if you’d accept his request to start a relationship. A serious, romantic relationship that was entirely monogamous. If you said yes, then he had a lawyer all set up to break his contract and a contract just waiting for him with Jimin.

Although really, he’d be quitting his job no matter what happened. He was tired of the porn scene, even if he’d met some wonderfully kind and talented people there. Taehyung had finally decided that he would be moving on with his life and accepting the job with Jimin.

It was up to you whether you wanted to be alongside him, and in what capacity.

The pizza he’d ordered for you both arrived at the same time you came home; a large box of vegetable pizza held in your hands and amusement in your pretty eyes. It makes him smile brightly to see you happy, knowing that you’re pleased he’d taken care of dinner tonight. Especially as it was from your favourite pizzeria; six different kinds of cheeses combined with peppers, onions, eggplant, tomatoes and spinach.

Your favourite kind of pizza, alongside a bottle of red wine that he’d already filled a glass with to let it breathe. The amusement soon turns to suspicion, your brow rising as you kick off your shoes and shrug off your coat.

“What’s all this about?” Gesturing at everything, you settle onto the couch next to him with your legs curled up beneath you. Taehyung bites his lip, sighing softly before reaching out and opening up the box. He doesn’t explain for a few minutes, just letting you both eat a slice of pizza while he watches his beer on the table.

He felt like a teenager, his stomach fizzing with a combination of excitement and nerves that almost makes him feel nauseous. Maybe he shouldn’t be eating right now, but he hasn’t been able to eat all day so far. There would be no use in making himself ill. It would be mortifying for him to throw up all over you.

By the time you’ve eaten two slices, Taehyung has only managed one. But he’s decided that he’s waited long enough. It’s time.

Taking in a deep breath, he lets it out slowly before clearing his throat. After so many years of being friends, he knows that he can talk to you about anything. There are many memories that he’d much rather forget that you’d seen of him, such as that awkward time when he’d had an upset stomach and hadn’t been able to get to the bathroom quick enough.

Not his finest moment and you’d gagged more than once but hey, it was all a bonding experience. Right? Or was that just his opinion on it? 

Still, Taehyung found himself pausing; his words sticking in his throat even as he mentally told himself to pull it together. You’d seen all his low points and his highpoints, he did not doubt that you would treat his question with the respect it deserves. But it was still a worry that you might turn him down.

Maybe you’d finally found someone else and wouldn’t want him anymore. The thought made his chest hurt, but he had to know. He had to get the answer to the question that had burned in his thoughts for years now. If you rejected him then he’d be hurt but he’d get over it, especially if it meant you found your happiness.

So why was it so hard to get the words out?

“Hey, are you okay?” Your shoulder bumps into his, pretty face dipping low to catch his eyes. He should have known that you would have realised there was something wrong, or that he wasn’t quite being himself. The way you look at him with such worry and concern makes his anxiety melt away, causing him to smile before he nods.

“I have something to ask you. I mean...you can say no. Please don’t worry about that, if you don’t want to then tell me no. I’ll accept it, I promise. You know I’d never try to force you, right?” He winces, realising that he’s messing this up already given the way your brow creases in confusion. “I mean, god I’m fucking this up. I’m sorry. I just...I have to be honest with you. I accidentally overheard your conversation the other month. I didn’t mean to, it was when you’d come home after your vacation and I’d fallen asleep so I was going back to my room and I overheard you.”

Taehyung is babbling, and he realises that when you gently press a finger to his lips. It would be nice to say that you didn’t look bothered, but there was fear on your face that made him feel sick.

“I believe you.”

Your words are so soft and he almost hums in delight as you run your fingers through his hair, grooming him without even realising. It makes him smile, both at your steadfast belief in him and how you always want to be touching and cleaning him in some way. His fingers itched with the desire to groom you in turn.

He restrained himself, fully aware that if he did then it’d just end up being one half an hour of you both trying to clean each other. The perils of two social hybrids who both have a culture and instinct for grooming. Not what he wanted right now.

The reassurance you give him, combined with the unwavering belief in your eyes, convinces him to just say it. To just get it out and lay his cards on the table. He was nervous, sure, but he’d been nervous many times in his life and he’d overcome all of those moments.

“I heard you say that you like me. In a romantic way. I was really surprised at hearing it, mainly because I didn’t think you’d ever looked at me that way before. Not when I’m the opposite of what you’d want in terms of a relationship. But I want you to know that hearing it made me the happiest I’ve been in a while. Because I like you too. And I have done for a while now. Years.” He says it all with a carefully neutral face, watching you carefully to see if he can gauge your reaction.

For a moment, your expression is a perfect picture in neutrality. The Switzerland of faces, giving nothing away and not letting him see anything that’s going on in your head. It’s frustrating for him when he’s probably feeling too much, but he doesn’t push. Just waits to see what you’ll say.

“What?”

Okay, so perhaps not the eloquent acceptance of his feelings that he’d expected. But it’s not an outright rejection. He can work with this, there’s potential here. 

Licking his lips, he takes a deep breath before carefully shifting until he’s facing you on the couch. Your eyes are so wide, shining in the light and making him think it looks like you hold the secrets of the universe deep within. He can’t help but smile at it, at how young and innocent you look.

Smile at the tentative hope he thinks he can spy.

“I like you, Chirp. Like, like you. Probably would use a stronger word if I wasn’t already afraid I’m scaring you away. I know that I’m not what you’d want in a partner, which is why I’ve never made a move over the years. But I’ve always hoped, which is why I never got a herd of my own,

“I love being around you, I love hearing you sing and laugh, I love talking to you, I love hearing you talk to others, I love how you’re so affectionate and always want to groom me along with chatting my ears off. I never said anything though, because most of all, I valued our friendship. And I knew that you wanted someone who could be your life-partner, something I wasn’t sure if I could be.” Taehyung pauses, twisting his lips before looking down at his hands.

“But then I heard you talking and I realised that there might be a possibility. A small one maybe, but I knew I had to at last try. Something I want you to know though is that everything I’m about to tell you that I’ve done has been done for myself because I finally realised that I have to move forward with my life. So, firstly, I talked to my doctor and I’ve started some medication that helps to inhibit my instincts when it comes to relationships and sex.” Pausing, he eyes you to gauge how you’re taking the news.

The head tilt you give is very birdlike, causing him to chuckle without even meaning to. He can’t help it though, not when you look so sweet right then with your bright hair and big eyes.

“I don’t have the urge to have sex with lots of women or make my herd anymore. We talked about it extensively and decided this would be my best course of action to allow me to have a healthy, monogamous relationship. Because of that, I’ve also quit my job and taken up the offer Jimin’s been giving me for years now.”

Despite the fact he’s mid-confession to you, the excitement in his stomach at that very moment is more to do with the fact he was going to finally have his dream career. That he was going to be doing a job which he’d been wanting to accept for years.

Understandably, his words cause you to suddenly gasp in delight before you’re clapping your hands eagerly. The excitement and happiness are purely for him finally taking proper control of his life, ridding himself of the pornography career that he’d enjoyed but hadn’t loved. Something you’d known for a while now.

“Oh my god? You’re going to work with Jimin?! You took the job! TaeTae, I’m so happy for you!” Even though he’d just admitted to you that he was near enough in love with you, your emotions were purely focused on the fact he’d taken the job. Feeling your approval and genuine joy at his life change, he can’t help but give you a wide, boxy grin even while the apples of his cheeks turn a soft rose.

“Thanks, I think Jimin was more excited than anyone to be honest. Pretty sure he’s already organising a design space for me in his building alongside an office. Makes me feel kind of bad for waiting so long to take him up on it but I feel like I’m finally at a place in my life that I’m truly ready for that career change.” That seems to remind you of what he’d told you earlier, about his medication.

Your elated expression slowly fades and he watches in trepidation as your brow creased, the mood dimming. Were you unhappy with his choice? Taking a deep breath, he holds it for a moment before letting it out slowly.

“I want you to know that there is no pressure on you. For anything. I’m going to continue taking this medication because I want to focus on my new career without having to worry about any urges taking over. The side benefit to it means that...well,” He pauses for a moment. “I can have a proper relationship. Or at least, the kind of relationship that you’d want. If you want that. With me.”

There’s complete silence in the room and Taehyung feels the sudden urge to grab another slice of pizza and start eating. Just for something to do with his hands and to distract himself.

He doesn’t push though, just lets you process what he’s told you. It was a lot, so he wasn’t even particularly expecting an answer tonight. If he were being honest, then he wouldn’t be surprised if you took yourself off to your room for the night. Or even went to one of your friends to talk it over with them.

But as usual, you surprise him. You may be small and dainty compared to him, light as a feather and full of cheer, but your personality has always been big and bold. Which is why you tackle the topic head-on.

“I didn’t mean for you to hear, you know that right?” Is your first question and Taehyung nods quickly, reaching out to encompass your much smaller hand with his own. There’s nothing too familiar about the gesture, just a squeeze of reassurance to let you know he understands and isn’t mad or anything.

“I know. It was entirely my fault. I should’ve carried on as soon as I heard that you were talking but I just heard my name and...well.” He trails off, giving an awkward smile that causes you to smile in return. The gentle pressure on his hand makes him realise that you’re now trying to assuage his fears that you were annoyed.

“Hey, it’s okay. You may not have too many physical features of your animal side but you’ve got plenty of their abilities. We both know that you can’t control the fact that you can hear much better, so I don’t blame you. Nor do I blame you for stopping to listen. Especially when you realised what I was talking about,” Now it’s your turn to look abashed, gaze skittering away from his and down to your still joined hands. “I’d have done the same thing if I heard you talking about me.”

Swallowing, Taehyung wonders how he’s meant to respond to that. He didn’t know what he’d say anyway as his stomach feels like it’s full of butterflies suddenly. Really big, horrible butterflies that are making him feel nauseous. 

“So yeah, I’m not angry or annoyed over that. Please don’t worry too much. If anything...I’m kind of glad. Because it means you’ve confronted this head-on and now we both know how we feel about each other. Which is that we like each other. A lot. In case it wasn’t clear, I like you too. Really like you. But I also thought it wouldn’t work because I know what I want and need from my partner in my life and I knew that your instincts clashed with that. Again, not your fault. You can’t deny nature and I tried to make sure that you never felt like I was.” There’s a hint of something in your voice but Taehyung can’t figure it out.

Pain? Embarrassment? Worry?

Whatever it is, he doesn’t get a chance to query it because you forge on. The sweet lovebird he’d known for years seems to be wavering between shyness at talking about your feelings and determination to have everything laid out.

He can understand the feeling.

“You know, I’ve fantasised about this for years, but now that it’s happening-”

“You don’t know how to communicate what you’re feeling and it’s all way more awkward and not nearly as romantic or sexy as you’d imagined?” Taehyung finishes for you, biting his lip as he grins broadly. You snort in amusement before nodding, playing with his fingers for a minute or so as you try to rationalise it all in your head.

“Did you go on whatever that medication is...for me? Like...because you wanted a relationship? With me? I know you’ve said it’s also because you wanted a career doing something you’ve always wanted but…” Trailing off, you can’t seem to look him in the eyes.

Carefully, he uses his free hand to lift your chin until he can see you. There’s a brief moment where you try to avoid his gaze before you give in, staring back just as deeply. Nerves, fear and hope are warring within him and he imagines that he can see it reflected in your own eyes.

“I’m not going to say no because overhearing your conversation was what spurred me to talk to my doctor. Finding out that you liked me back and that I might have a chance with you made me want to try to make sure you get the best of me. I knew that there are horse hybrids out there who have monogamous relationships and who are happy, but I didn’t think that would be a possibility for me. And given what I was doing for my career, I thought it was just better to carry on as I was,

“But then when I was talking to him about it all, I realised that it would help me in other aspects of my life too. Yes, I could finally offer you the kind of relationship that you want and that I want to have with you, but it would also let me leave behind the porn and start focusing on what I want to do. You know that I’ve never really been one of those stallions who wants a herd and the porn helped me to get rid of those urges without giving in to them properly. I looked into it for you, but I took it for me.” Licking his lips, Taehyung realises that he feels lighter.

Like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he realises it’s because of what he’d told you. He’d been convinced that he was doing this to have a chance with you in the way he’d always dreamed of, but it was startling to realise that it was having such a positive effect in the rest of his life. For once, he was no slave to his instincts and had full control over himself, his emotions and his desires.

Just the thought of never having to do another film filled him with joy and happiness.

“Good. I wouldn’t want you to have changed yourself for me. But given that you have...what does it mean? Tell me.” Those pretty eyes, so big and wide, watch him intently and he gives a small half-smile as he shrugs with one shoulder.

“I mean...it’s basically like an inhibitor I guess? Reduces the amount of testosterone I produce, makes me less reactive to the scent of mares in heat and all that. There’s a whole bunch of medical stuff that I don’t understand but I just know what the doctor told me. It’s safe, it’s been tested many times before, and if things don’t work out, then I can come off them and be back to my old self. It just means that I won’t have the desire to have a herd or to...well sleep with multiple women, you know? Let’s be monogamous, a one-woman man. Finally.” Chuckling to himself, he runs his fingers through his pale hair so it’s out of his eyes.

“So...we could be together? Like...in a relationship? Just me and you?” 

“Yeah. The doctor said that as long as I’m on the medication then I’ll be like any other human or hybrid who doesn’t have a poly instinct. Not that there’s anything wrong with that obviously, but it means we can be together. In the future, if you want to be in a relationship or something...then if we decide to have kids or to not have them, I can get gelded and that’ll get rid of the instincts permanently.” Now your eyes widen in horror, hand covering your mouth as you gasp loudly.

“Gelded? They’d castrate you?” There’s a glance down from his face to his groin from you and he can’t help but laugh at the thought. Even if it does make him want to cup his balls protectively.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay! It’s okay! It’s just a vasectomy. Because I’m a stallion, it’s called being gelded. After that, I’d be officially known as a gelding. No longer able to have babies and with no real instinct to make my herd anymore.” Thankfully you look relieved at that and he wants to tease you about being so worried about his testicles. But instead, he just feels happy that you don’t tease him in turn about talking about potential babies already.

That’s a good sign.

“Okay. Okay...so, let’s think about this logically. I mean, is that being too cold? You admit that you like me back and you’re on medication to allow us to be in a relationship and I’m saying we need to think logically?” Taehyung pauses you with a finger to your lips, a smile on his own before he carefully wraps his arms around your shoulders.

He makes sure to give you plenty of time to make sure that you can pull away if you want to if you’re not comfortable with this, but you don’t. Instead, you almost seem to relax into him and link your arms around his waist. You can probably feel his heart beating through his chest, the muscle working extra hard while he feels a little breathless.

It’s not the first time he’s held you, but it feels different this time. There’s something more intimate about it and he can’t help but take a deep breath in, enjoying your scent.

“It’s fine. I’m kind of glad because I’ve made a complete mess of explaining myself here. So at least one of us can think more logically about it.”

“You didn’t do a terrible job. I mean...I’m certainly not going to vote for you or anything but it wasn’t bad. My question to you then...are we dating now?” And just like that, Taehyung’s breath is taken away. To the point, he almost chokes on his spit and ends up having a coughing fit.

Directly into your face, ruining any hint of romance.

Yep, he’d truly fucked this confession up. Taehyung was just lucky that you’d known him for so long that it just made your nose wrinkle as you wiped at your face with your shirt, grumbling lightly before pushing his shoulder.

“Gross.”

“Sorry! I wasn’t expecting that though! I mean, you just straight up asked. I was expecting like...more talking and exchanging feelings. More awkwardness.” Leaning away from him, you give him a very droll stare that makes him wince. Well, at least it was awkward now.

“Sorry for not living up to those weird expectations I guess? I just figure that we’ve spent long enough dancing around each other, right? I don’t want to waste any more time or have any more miscommunication so if it’s too abrupt for you then I’m still not sorry. I like you, Kim Taehyung. And given what you’ve told me, and what you’ve done for me, I want to finally have that relationship I’ve been wanting for so many years.” The authoritative tone in your voice is more attractive than he’d expected, causing his brow to rise. 

Feisty.

“Okay. Yes. Yes, we’re dating. Together. We’re together. Boyfriend and girlfriend. I need to shut up.” Clamming up, he forces his mouth to shut and for his muscles to remain still. In reality, he wants to jump for joy and scream out that this was happening. Even if part of him is embarrassed that he’s incapable of talking now.

It’s all worth it though when you give him a huge smile, so big and bright and full of happiness.

“You’re cute, you know that?” Now he’s blushing; cheeks high and a delightful rose as he tries to contain his smile. He’s supposed to be cool, the epitome of an educated man who is extremely experienced around women. And yet here he is, acting like a teenager getting his first girlfriend.

“Not what I normally get called.” You’re the one who looks a little shy at that, your eyes darting away from his as you bite at your lip. There’s a hint of nerves to you now and something else, something he can’t quite figure out. The way you wiggle slightly in place has him frowning in confusion, wondering what’s made you suddenly so quiet. This was the behaviour he’d been expecting from you, so it felt a relief to finally get it but also strange given how confident you’d been.

“What’s wrong? Where’s my bold girlfriend gone?” Gently poking your waist, he tries to ignore the thrill that rises inside him when he calls you that. It was going to take some time to get used to it.

Thankfully, it also manages to breakthrough whatever shell you’d suddenly formed around yourself. Grasping his hand with your own, you let out a soft whine as he continues to prod at you and he quickly intertwines his fingers with your own. For a moment, he’s too busy staring down at your hand in amused awe to remember what he’d asked you.

“Your hand is tiny, you know that?”

“No, you just have huge hands. All of you is huge, just like all of me is small. The difference between a horse and a lovebird.” Now it’s your turn to push at his stomach, a small smile on your face. Taehyung grins at that, but he grins, even more, when he catches your eyes flicking down to his lap.

It all clicked into place in his head, from the way you got shy at him saying he’s not normally called cute to the way you call him huge. You’re not wrong; Taehyung is massive when compared to you. Denser bones add to it at all, allowing him to lift and move heavy weights with ease whereas you’d developed a lighter bone structure that was more reminiscent of birds.

Taehyung had never broken a bone before, whereas you had to be careful doing certain things. But the size difference between you both was made even more obvious when he thought about sex. He was bigger than most human and hybrid males down below, and he wondered if there was something wrong with him that the knowledge you knew that turned him on.

Not that you’d ever seen him naked or anything, but you weren’t stupid. He was infamous in the porn industry for a reason.

Which suddenly made him consider something, his head tilting slightly as he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Have you ever watched my stuff? Like my films or anything? I know for a fact that some of them are on those free porn sites.” Biting his lip, he watches closely for any positive sign. One of the benefits of being a horse hybrid was that he was highly attuned to microexpressions in others.

Originally meant to watch out for danger and keep himself safe, it was more useful for getting an idea of where a conversation was going. It also made Taehyung feel very stupid that he’d never noticed you were in love with him before.

He doesn’t need to have any extra abilities to read your face right now though, not with how you look almost like you wish the floor would swallow you whole. You can’t even meet his eyes and it delights him.

“You have!” 

“No! I wouldn’t do that, you’re my best friend. That’d be weird.” Taehyung can sense the distress in your voice and he forces himself to tone down. He had no issues with the idea of you watching his stuff; if anything it was a turn on. But this relationship was so new that it had barely been born and he didn’t want to push your boundaries just yet. 

Still, he felt like he had a right to know.

“Hey, listen to me, it wouldn’t bother me if you did. I actually would find it a turn on to know you’ve watched me. I hope you weren’t upset though, I only did all of that to satisfy my instincts so that I could enjoy my time with you. But I made those films and videos for people to enjoy. If you got off to some of them that I’d consider it a job well done. Don’t feel embarrassed if you did.” Using his free hand, he lets his fingers trail along your cheek. It’s warm beneath his touch, the blood rushing in response to your tumultuous emotions and he reassuringly runs his thumb across it.

“You’re...you’re not bothered by the idea of that?” 

Taehyung chuckles at your disbelief and shrugs genially, making sure to portray an aura of calm and serenity. The only thing that bothered him about the idea of you watching his videos was that he was already sporting a semi at the very thought of his supposed ‘innocent’ best friend watching him railing some mare.

Which should be a terrible thought, but it just meant that he was all the more experienced for you. There would be no doubt in his mind that he could show you a world of pleasure that you’d never even imagined; as pompous and egotistic as that sounded.

Sex was his area of expertise though.

“I mean...I knew it was a risk when I started. I make porn. Porn is available freely on the internet and I fully expected some of my friends to be at least a little curious. Plus, there’s the whole ‘horse hybrid’ thing going on. I don’t tend to get embarrassed easily around sex. If anything, it’s kinda exciting knowing that you’ve seen some.” You’re giving him a look of pure confusion and he can’t help but laugh heartily. 

Oh, he loves you. He loves how befuddled you are at his refusal to adhere to your expectations. Given how reserved you were normally about sex and relationships, it was delightful to shatter your illusions surrounding him and make your perusal of his work sound like a benefit rather than something to be ashamed of.

“So...what did you think? You’ve never given me a rating before, so I’m curious.” Once more, your eyes dart away from his and he has to stifle a snort at how you suddenly find the wall so interesting. The artwork on there was nice, he’d picked it out himself, but it wasn’t that nice.

He doesn’t push though. What he wants is for this relationship to start on trust and honesty. So if you want to trust him enough to be honest about your opinion then he’d accept that. If it was still too early for you; he’d accept that too.

“It was good. I mean, I haven’t watched much. It was years ago and only a few minutes before I felt weird. Like I was spying on you. That’s it though! I swear I haven’t seen anything else. It felt like I was...perving on you or something.” Grasping at his hands desperately, you give him such big eyes that try to get across your honesty.

It makes his lips quirk in amusement and he links your fingers together once more, squeezing lightly. For a few moments, he considers how to respond to you before deciding to just go for it. Which means he slowly leans forward to you, eyes flicking down to your lips and giving you plenty of chances to pull away and leave.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s a little bit of a relief, knowing you’ve seen at least something. But most importantly...can I kiss you?” Taehyung swears you deflate, your entire body seeming to relax with a deep breath you let out.

He’d be worried if it wasn’t for the huge grin that you have painted on your face now, the delight making your skin almost glow with health and happiness. It’s a beautiful look and he feels like he’s enraptured once more, falling in love with you all over again. At least now he has an outlet for these mushy feelings.

“Finally!” 

There’s only time for Taehyung’s eyes to widen in shock before you’re shaking your hands free of his own and grasping at his shirt. With a surprising amount of strength, you jerk him forwards and his lips crash against your own. That’s the only way to describe it, as it kinda hurts. His lips mashed against his teeth a little and his nose bumps against yours, causing him to whine.

You let him go almost immediately, looking intensely embarrassed as you rub at your mouth and nose. He does the same, making sure that there’s nothing wrong with his beloved nose while licking at his lips to soothe the dull ache. But then he can’t help but laugh, the sound bright and rumbling up from his chest as he contemplates what just happened.

Every time that he thought you would zig, you instead zagged. Over the years, he’d learnt to go with the flow with you in regards to this with his friendship but for some reason, he’d never quite realised that it would be much the same with a romantic relationship. You defied his expectations and made him feel like he was constantly on his toes.

He loved it, including when almost headbutted him with your first kiss.

“I am so sorry-” You start, your eyes wide and worry emanating from you. He shakes his head, trying to stifle his amusement before reaching out and cupping your face with a gentle touch.

“Okay, how about we try this again but...a little slower this time, yeah?” Keeping your face steady, he inches forward until he can feel your warm breath on his cheek. You’ve already closed your eyes in anticipation and he has to squash the desire to grin, instead fulfilling both of your wishes by pressing his lips against your own.

It’s a soft and gentle kiss at first, exploratory and uncertain. Neither of you knows how to kiss the other properly, or what the other likes, and so you both simply...take your time. Taehyung’s thumb strokes along with the softness of your cheek while your hands flatten against his chest, palms hot where they rest.

He’s kissed a lot of women in his life; some he’s proud of, some he’s not and some he doesn’t even care about. But this is the best kiss so far. Even as slow and unsure as it is, it’s still the best.

Because it’s you.

There’s more than a hint of inexperience in your kiss and it doesn’t surprise him. He knows that you’ve at least kissed a few people before, but you didn’t have a huge amount of experience in it. Instead, it’s just enough that he feels comfortable but not enough to have you take the lead.

So he does, instead. And given how bold you’d been earlier, he takes the initiative to be bold this time as well. 

With almost minimal strength required on his behalf, he slips his hands down to your hips and grips them tightly, lifting and depositing you onto his lap without breaking the kiss. He doesn’t even make a noise as he does so, your weight nothing to him.

His ancestors had been bred for heavy lifting and pulling, after all.

What he doesn’t anticipate though, is the way you moan into his mouth or how you wiggle slightly at his action. Pulling from you, one brow lifts as he looks you over inquisitively. His question is silent, but you understand it immediately. There’s nowhere for you to look now, not when you’re so close to him.

So you stare at his chin instead, carefully avoiding his eyes as your hands move to play with his soft hair. The blonde strands are almost golden instead of platinum in the soft light of the nearby lamp, just visible in his vision from where you stroke them.

“I forget how strong you are sometimes.” The words are muttered and he gets the impression that you’re hoping he doesn’t hear. And that he won’t query it further. But he does, of course, he does.

“Do you have a strength kink, Chirp?” 

“Wha-no! That’s, why would I-” Spluttering, you lean back a little and take a moment to shuffle until you’re more comfortable on his lap. Your legs are on either side of his now, comfortable in their almost kneeling position but most of your weight is on his legs. He takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist and tug you closer, enjoying the warmth you give him.

“It’s cool if you do. I can fulfil that. Not yet though, if that’s okay. But I need you to know something right now. I don’t want us to have sex right now. Not yet. Since being a teenager, I’ve been obsessed with sex. An unfortunate side effect of being a stallion. For the first time in my adult life...I don’t feel an insatiable need for it. And it’s kinda nice. I don’t want us to start our relationship with sex. I want us to explore each other and our relationship first and then introduce sex. I need to learn that sex is something intimate and between only us now. I’ve spent too long viewing it as work.” He tries to make sure that his words are carefully said and that he’s not rushing them, but now he’s the one a little nervous.

You’d been far bolder than he’d ever expected and now he was worried that you might expect sex from him immediately. It was an easy, even acceptable, assumption to make given what he was and his career. But he didn’t want that. As he’d said, he wanted to start this relationship with love and trust.

Lust could come later.

There’s no answer from you for a moment and he sighs, letting his hands awkwardly stroke at your sides in an attempt to give them something to do.

“I’m sorry if that’s not what you were expecting. Or not what you wanted. I’m a little surprised you’ve been so forward with me and-” A soft fingertip presses against his lips, causing him to quieten instantly.

Smiling softly, you lean forward and kiss him. It’s just as chaste as the one previously, only you’ve controlled yourself a little more compared to your first attempt. He takes solace in it though and now his body is the one deflating. There’s a silent acceptance in that kiss.

When you finally pull away from him, he finds himself chasing after you. It’s an odd sensation for him to do that without any intention of going further but he finds that he likes it. There’s no doubt that you can feel what’s going on in his pants; he can’t control everything after all but just because his body is saying yes doesn’t mean his mind is.

And you accept that. He can tell instantly, from the reassuring smile you give him and how you embrace him so warmly and carefully. 

“It’s okay, Tae. I’ll admit to being a little disappointed but I can understand your reasoning behind it. And I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want to. I know you’d do the same for me. I guess it’s just going to make it better when we finally do get to it, right?” Teasing him, you stick your tongue out and poke at his cheek.

Almost immediately, his nose wrinkles and your laugh lightly. For a moment, the sounds are almost like chirping and he can see your lovebird origins so clearly. That was to say nothing of the fact that you were now subconsciously grooming his hair, fingertips running through the platinum strands and getting rid of any unfortunate kinks or knots.

“Thank you.” He whispers, letting his hands wrap around your waist until he’s hugging you. It takes minimal effort to have you plastered against him, head resting on his shoulder as he embraces you so tightly. You smell heavenly, and he wonders what he did to be given the chance to be with you after so many years.

“Can we go on a date though? I mean...like now?” Tilting his head back, he frowns before looking at the table and the pizza boxes.

“What? Where? We’ve already eaten?”

“Okay, but I’m kinda horny and you’re kinda horny and I think we both need to talk a walk and cool down. So...how about we have our first date? I’ve been waiting a while for this, Kim Taehyung.” Your smile is so big and bright, dazzling him and making his stomach flutter.

He doesn’t even realise he’s nodding until you practically launch yourself from his lap, rushing over to the door and chattering away. If he was being honest, he had no idea what you were talking about as you quickly pulled your shoes on and sorted out your bag.

Taehyung didn’t even care, because he’d done it. He had the girl he’d been in love with for years, who he’d been certain he had no chance with. You could regale him with a thousand and one tales and he’d listen to them all with a content smile because he was yours, and you were his.

[xjoonchildx]

greedy | myg x reader | chapter one: you like milkshakes?

summary: being a loner has never bothered yoongi until now.  until you.

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 4.3K

notes: confession, i am struggling these days with my insane attraction to min yoongi.  this guy has it all.  looks and talent and mystery and sweetness -- he’s the total package. so i really wanted to give him a story in this AU that i’ve come to love so much and i truly hope you guys enjoy it.  

i also hope you guys know how much i appreciate every single one of you. i see your reblogs and comments and likes and i try to answer every one because it truly makes my day.  you guys make my day.

i could not post this fic without shouting out the amazing @hobi-gif because honestly, if hope didn’t read it, did i even write it? and i’m sending major love to three people who are such a source of laughter and support for me, @ladyartemesia​ @ppersonna @taetaewonderland. you guys keep me in stitches.

this fic is a continuation of the Guarded Series but can be read as a standalone piece! Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05

*************************

Yoongi had fucked up.

He’d misread the massive man’s approach, tracking him in one direction when the guy was actually headed in another.  That’s how the asshole managed to catch Yoongi off guard with one meaty fist to the face. 

It didn’t matter that it was hundreds of pounds of fat -- not muscle -- behind that punch.  It was wielding more than enough momentum to blow up the side of Yoongi’s face like a bomb. 

That’s the night he landed in the ER at Songdo at nearly two in the morning, pressing gauze to his bleeding face.  

That’s the night he found himself chuckling inside an empty exam room, reading triage paperwork that made him sound like some kind of war hero instead of just an idiot who got caught looking the wrong way.

That’s the night he met you.

“Rough evening, Mister Yun?” 

Yoongi had looked up from the floor just as you’d breezed into the room, tablet in hand.  That moment marked the second time he’d been caught off guard that night.

“That looks like it hurts,” you’d murmured sympathetically, eyes raking over the bloody mess on his face.  Your gaze was clinical -- professional -- as you assessed his grossly swollen eye and the half dozen bleeding cuts that surrounded it.  

But then you’d stopped looking at him -- and stepped back to really look at him.  

Yoongi had taken one look at your enormous, dark eyes and your soft, sweet face and he was dumbstruck.  He’d blinked back at you with the only eye that could still move.  

“You’re a doctor?”

“Nope,” you’d replied casually, turning to reach for a pair of latex gloves. “I’m a janitor. But I’ve always wanted to give this medicine thing a try. You don’t mind, right?”  

Your eyes had sparkled then, bright with humor -- and Yoongi couldn’t help but grin despite the pain pulsing from the left side of his face.

“Here’s the deal, Mister Yun,” you’d said, pulling on your gloves.  “I’m a resident.  And I’m more than qualified to handle the -- situation -- on your face, but if you feel more comfortable waiting for the attending, I’m happy to step back.  Good luck seeing him before sunrise, though.”

“Nah,” Yoongi had chuckled.  “I think I’ll take my chances with you.”

“Good call.”

You’d leaned in close after that, gloved fingers firm under his chin as you turned his face from side to side.  You’d smelled fucking amazing.  The light, fresh scent that lingered on your skin sure as hell beat the disinfectant odor in this place.

“What happened to you tonight, Mister Yun?”

“It’s a funny story, actually.”

“Oh, great,” you’d said dryly.  “‘Cause it turns out, I love funny stories.”

Yoongi had flinched when you’d peeled the gauze back, exposing the angry wounds to the air.  But he’d forced himself to sit dutifully still as you got to work cleaning the caked blood off his face and eye.

“Thing is, I work for the circus,” he’d started, hissing under his breath when you swiped across an open cut above his eye.  “One of the elephants got rowdy while we were practicing a number tonight and just kicked me right in the face.”

You’d stopped dabbing at his eye then, one brow raised and a cynical slant to your mouth.

Yoongi liked that you knew he was full of shit right away. 

He liked that you’d played along anyway.

“God, I hate when that happens,” you’d said with feigned outrage, cutting your eyes at him as you dropped a piece of bloody gauze on the tray at his side.  

“I know, right?”

That’s when Yoongi had won a real smile from you, wide and genuine.  That's when Yoongi made the mistake of looking at you for just a moment too long.  

He knew it by the way your smile fell away as you cleared your throat and turned your focus back to his damaged face.

“Well, I have good news for you Mister Yun,” you’d said after a while, eyes scanning the freshly cleaned wounds.  You’d run your gloved fingers gently over one particularly deep slash over his eye and Yoongi felt a shudder run up his back.  “I’m pretty sure you’re going to live.”

“Well, that is good news.”

There was that smile again.  

It seemed like no time at all before you had him all patched up -- cuts sanitized and sealed with skin adhesive; swollen eye cleaned and medicated.  Yoongi had felt a strange kind of disappointment as he’d watched you gather your supplies, pull your gloves off and drop them in the trash can near the door.

“You’re all set, Mister Yun,” you’d murmured. “Watch out for those elephants, okay? I’d hate for them to ruin a perfectly nice face.”

Then you were gone.

***************************

Thing is -- Kim Namjoon is a rules guy.

It doesn’t matter that he runs a criminal organization -- or that the men in his employ are gangsters in custom ties and suits.  He expects dirty work done clean because that’s what sets the Gajog apart.

Rotate hospitals.  Use fake names.  Pay in cash.

All of those protocols are in place to keep any one of the Gajog from drawing unwanted attention.  Truthfully, Namjoon’s operations usually run so neatly his men rarely have to seek treatment for anything beyond the occasional black eye or broken bone.  That’s why he’d rather trust his men to legitimate doctors in legitimate hospitals than hand them over to some back-alley hack.

Thing is -- shit has gotten a lot more heated of late.  

An audit of the Gajog books has turned up millions in missing won, stolen over time by street-level guys all over the city.  Yoongi and Hoseok are the ones on the front lines, tasked with confronting those men -- getting them to pay and getting them back in line.

Sometimes they play ball.  Sometimes they don’t.

Tonight is one of those nights.

Yoongi knew the moment they arrived at the crumbling warehouse in the Nowon district that shit was probably going to get messy.  Their contact was fucked up -- sloppy drunk -- and belligerent from the jump.

After that, everything was a blur.

At some point during the scuffle, Yoongi heard his hand crunch under the heavy weight of the man’s steel-toed boot. The pain was still flaring hot from his knuckles when Hoseok finally took the guy down.  

Right now Yoongi should be at Asan or Gachon or any of the other half-dozen hospitals in the city.  He should have dragged his tired ass and bloody hand across town because those are the rules.

But instead -- for the second time in a month -- he’s sitting under the sickly fluorescent lights in an empty exam room at Songdo at nearly three in the morning.

Hoping to see you. 

*************************

Yoongi is gingerly flexing his aching fingers when a light knock sounds at the door.

It was a long shot that you’d be here tonight -- and an even longer shot that you’d be the one treating him. But when the door to the exam room opens, it’s you on the other side.

Yoongi’s pulse picks up in response.

“Sorry to keep you waiting tonight Mister -- ”  you stop dead in your tracks, eyes wide on his before darting back down the tablet in your hand.  You scan the screen slowly then look back up, gaze critical.

“ -- Mister Woo.”

“Yeah, sure,” Yoongi replies casually.  “It’s no problem.”

You approach him slowly then, disbelief etched into your delicate features and Yoongi takes in every detail.

It’s like he’d forgotten how pretty you are since the last time he saw you.

You’re nothing like the flashy women who like to hang around the usual Gajog haunts.  You’re the kind of pretty that doesn’t cost hundreds of thousands of won a month to maintain.  The kind of pretty that doesn’t come off at the end of the night. 

Yoongi swallows thickly as you eye him, lips parted like you’re about to fire off a hundred different questions.  But you don’t.  

You play along.  

Again.

“Right.  Let’s get to it then, Mister Woo,” you say carefully, slipping on your gloves.  “What happened to your hand?”

“Well, you see, I’m a hot air balloon operator.”  

His mouth quirks into a smile and your eyes flash in response.  

“Wind was nuts today and the basket came down on my hand.  I think I might have broken something.”

“Hmm,” you murmur.  “Hot air balloon operator, huh?”

Yoongi winces when you take his hand between your gloved ones, gently applying pressure to each knuckle.

“Yeah.”

“That’s an interesting way to make a living, Mister Woo.”

Yoongi chokes down a groan when you press against one particularly sore spot.  You back off the pressure, turning to make a note on your chart.

“Well, I’m an interesting guy,” he whispers.  

You look up at him then, dark eyes focused and intense.  

“That you are.”

You’re looking at Yoongi like you can see inside him and the scrutiny makes him squirm.  He lowers his eyes to the floor and keeps quiet while you clean his hand and apply ointment to his cuts.

“Mister Woo, it looks like most of these are surface abrasions, but the knuckles concern me.  I’m going to have to send you for an X-ray.”

“Yeah, okay.  It hurts like hell.”

“I bet it does,” you say quietly, typing into your tablet.  “Someone is going to come and take you back when they’re ready.  I have to go check on some other patients, but I’ll be back when we have some images to go over.”

“Sure,” Yoongi breathes.

You take another long look at him before standing to leave and Yoongi wonders for a moment if he’s made a mistake. Maybe he’s misread you like he misread that brawler who caught him with the nasty punch all those weeks ago.  

You could be off to flag a security guard.  Or leaving to call the police.

He really should have just followed protocol.

Yoongi sits in the quiet of that exam room waiting -- ready -- for trouble that never comes.  Because when a knock finally sounds at the door, it’s not the Korean National Police.  

It’s the X-ray technician.

Maybe he didn’t misread you after all.

*********************

It takes hours for you to come back.

“Mixed news tonight, Mister Woo,” you say upon your return.  “You have hairline fractures in three of your knuckles, which explains the pain.  Unfortunately, that means I’m not going to be able to do much for you beyond wrapping your hand.”

Yoongi nods.  “Got it.”

“And you should probably lay off the ballooning for a while,” you say under your breath as you lay out your bandages.  “Just a suggestion.”

“Good idea,” Yoongi chuckles.  “Safety first.”

You fix him with another one of those long, indecipherable looks before getting to work on his hand.  But you don’t say anything and the longer the silence stretches on, the antsier Yoongi feels.

“So…” he exhales, clearing his throat, “... you like milkshakes?”

“Everyone likes milkshakes,” you return evenly.  You don’t take your eyes off his hand or the flexible material you’re carefully wrapping around his sore knuckles. 

“Lactose intolerant people don’t like milkshakes.”

“Lactose intolerant people like milkshakes as much as the rest of us,” you argue.  “They just can’t tolerate them.”

“What are you, some kind of doctor?”

Your lips quirk with the threat of a laugh you manage to suppress but Yoongi catches the expression before it disappears.  You seem to relax after that.  He does, too.

“Dijeoteu has the best milkshakes in the city.  Ever been there?”

“Can’t say that I have,” you admit, taping off a bandage.  

“It’s not far from here.  Open twenty-four hours.  I hang out there sometimes.”

“So you’re a milkshake-drinking hot-air balloon enthusiast,” you murmur, inspecting your handiwork closely.  “Anything else I should know about you, Mister Woo?’

Yoongi scratches the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Not really.  That about covers it.”

You hum thoughtfully under your breath as you finish wrapping the bruised knuckles.

“All done.  How does it feel?”

“Better,” Yoongi admits.  “Thanks.”

You gaze at him then, thoughtful -- expression soft with something that looks almost like concern.  Yoongi drops his gaze down to his bandaged hand.

This is the part where you’ve finished -- the part where you leave.  

This is the part where he should say something to you but he has no idea what or how.

“I would say come back soon, but this is a hospital and that seems wildly inappropriate,” you announce, voice breaking clear through his stupor.

You turn back to him just as you’re walking towards the door, and for a moment Yoongi thinks you’re going to give in and ask him any one of the dozens of questions that must be swirling around your mind.

But you don’t.

“Try to take care of that hand, Mister Woo.”

Yoongi nods.

“Thanks, Doc.”

**********************

YOU

Doctor Lee is on his Houdini shit tonight, apparently.

The ER is packed -- waiting room crowded with crabby patients -- and you are, once again, running yourself ragged to get to every last one.  Lee is, once again, nowhere to be found.

“Page him again,” you call out as you pass the charge nurse outside an exam room.  

A quick scan of your tablet confirms the toddler behind this magic door has been vomiting all night.  You shut your eyes and wish a slow, violent death on your absent attending.  Vomit is the single worst phenomenon in medicine.

“I’ve paged him three times,” Nurse Ko calls back.

“Page him again,” you repeat, forcing a smile and pushing into the room.

Thirty minutes and one change of scrubs later you are checking charts on the next patient in line.  You pat the pocket of your new scrubs and realize you’ve left a half-eaten energy bar around here somewhere.  

No chance you’ll get that back.

Lee picks this moment to reappear, back from doing God knows what.  He strolls down the hallway like a man with nothing on his to-do list.

“You paged for me?” he inquires casually.

“A few times, actually,” you mutter.  “I’m getting killed out here.”

“Relax,” Lee purrs, condescension dripping from his tone.  “We’ll get it done.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from firing back the half-dozen nasty responses that spring to mind. There is no we when it comes to Doctor Lee.  He’s always been flighty and inconsistent, but these days he’s practically a missing person.  You’re still not sure how hospital management hasn’t figured out that he’s making his resident run the overnight ER.

“There’s a guy down the hall who says he swallowed a magnet,” you say, waving a hand in that direction.  “If you can pick him up I can get to this head trauma.”

Lee sighs like it’s a major inconvenience that you’ve asked him to do his job.

“Yeah, I’ll grab it.”

***********************

It’s nearly four in the morning by the time you have a chance to catch your breath.

You walk out to scan the waiting area and to your relief, there are only a handful of patients yet to be seen.  Then your eyes land on one young man -- slumped into a chair in an oversized coat, hat pulled low over his eyes.

You freeze.  

The man in the chair must feel your stare from across the room because he straightens, giving you a better look at the face hidden under the brim of his hat.  You let go of a breath you don’t realize you’ve been holding.

It’s not him.  

It’s not the mysterious man with the fake names and the bogus stories and the insanely handsome face. You shake your head as you look back down at your tablet, silently chastising yourself for even entertaining the thought.  

You shouldn’t still be thinking about this guy and you know it.

But it’s driving you nuts that you can’t figure him out.

He’s never tried to play you for pills and that seems to be the only thing people lie about these days. But if his problem isn’t drugs it’s certainly something because no one lands in the hospital that many times, with that many phoney stories unless they’re up to no good.

So you ignore the nonsensical disappointment you feel when the guy in that chair is not the guy. 

Because deep down you know he’s either in trouble -- or he is trouble.

***********************

Your pager goes off for a second time and you silence the alert, tossing it onto a nearby blanket.

It’s not like you’re hiding out in here -- not really. 

It’s just that you’ve already had one patient cough up blood on your sneakers and another swing at you when you refused to give him narcotics, so this night is off to a spectacularly bad start.

Besides, Doctor Lee could use a taste of his own medicine.  

This week has been the worst, by far.  You’ve been seeing at least three patients to his every one and you’re exhausted.  If there’s any justice, he’s walking into the exam room where the infant with explosive diarrhea is waiting to be seen -- you check your watch -- right about now.

The door to the linen closet cracks open and you groan, hiding your face in your hands.

“What, you thought I didn’t know about your little hiding place?”  Nurse Ko asks with a grin.  “I find everyone’s hiding place, eventually.”

“Haven’t found Lee’s yet,” you gripe. 

“Yeah, well he’s sneakier,” she laughs.  “Here, I brought you something.”  

She tosses a granola bar at you and it lands in your lap.  

“Thanks,” you sigh, ripping it open.  You take a bite and Ko leans against the doorframe.

“I don’t page you for my health, you know.”

“I know,” you whine around a mouthful of dried oats.  “I just needed five minutes.”

“Well, I’ve got a guy out here who says he’ll only see you.  Doesn’t want Doctor Lee and says he’ll wait as long as it takes.”

A piece of the granola bar lodges in your throat and you cough around it, spluttering while Ko looks on, amused.  She waits for you to collect yourself.

“Is he -- ”

“ -- hot? Yes. Very,” Ko smiles.  

Your cheeks flame with embarrassment at both the observation and the fact that it’s coming from a woman in her sixties.

“I was going to say young,” you grumble, standing and dusting your hands off with a towel.

“That, too.  Come to think of it, I know I’ve seen him here before.  You have some kind of admirer, jagiya?”

You flush.

**************************

“Good evening, Mister Kim.”

You hope the air of nonchalance you affect when you enter the exam room is enough to mask your jitters.  

Your mystery patient looks back at you with those dark eyes and a half-smirk that makes your heart trip in your chest.  You take a steadying breath as you look down at your tablet.

Get it together, girl.

“What brings you in tonight?” you inquire lightly.  “Sword-swallowing accident?  Lose a fist fight with a bear?”

Your mysterious patient chuckles under his breath.  

“Where would you get a couple of outlandish ideas like that, Doc?”

You look up at him just as the teasing smirk on his face becomes a full smile and heat blooms in your chest and face.  You force yourself to tear your gaze away.

“I dislocated my shoulder.  Did you know I work air traffic control at Incheon?”

You shake your head with amused weariness as you make notes on your tablet.

“Crazy night.  One of the planes nearly slid off the runway and I threw my shoulder out trying to get it back on track.”

“Did you save it?”

“Saved it and all 227 people on board.”

“Bravo, Mister Kim.” 

“Just doing my job,” he shrugs.  

You set your tablet down on the exam table with a thump, eyeing him as you reach for a pair of gloves.

“The charge nurse says you asked for me.”

“I did,” he admits.  “You never told me what your favorite kind of milkshake is.”

You cock your head to the side as you look at him.  

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mister Kim,” you murmur, feigning ignorance. “According to my records this is the first time I’ve ever seen you.”

“Oh, yeah.  Right,” he chuckles.  

“You need some help getting undressed?”

“Yeah,” he admits, slipping one arm out of his leather jacket.  You lean in to help him pull the other side off, compelling yourself to ignore the way he smells like soap and sweat and man when you’re this close.

“It’s strawberry.”

You blurt the words out, anxious to give your brain a task that doesn’t involve analyzing this man’s smell.  Something about the mischievous twist to his mouth tells you he knows you’re flustered by his nearness.  

“I would have guessed chocolate,” he muses, reaching one hand down to grab the hem of his shirt. He drags it up his abdomen and you will your eyes to stay on his face -- refusing to give him any indication that you have more than a clinical interest in what lies underneath.

“Everyone likes chocolate,” you argue, taking over when he can’t get the shirt up any higher.  You push it over his head and carefully work it off his shoulder.  “I don’t want to be like everyone else.”

“Mission accomplished, Doc.”

He gazes at you then -- chest bare and eyes sharp beneath those inky lashes --  and you feel a bolt of awareness run the length of your spine. You pray the heat you suddenly feel all over your body is not manifesting in damning spots of color on your face.  

You remind yourself to get back to work. 

He sucks a breath between his teeth when you press gently against the inflamed muscle and tissue.

“My shoulder’s been shit for years,” he confesses.  “I screwed it up when I was a kid and it hasn’t been the same since.”

“So this happens to you from time to time?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then I’m going to have to refer you for an MRI,” you say, and he groans when you press into his shoulder again.  “There could be a lot of scar tissue in here, but I won’t be able to know what’s going on until we get some clear scans.”

Your eyes flick back to his.  

Every word that’s ever come out of this man’s mouth is a lie -- but there’s something that feels honest about the way he’s looking at you right now.  Something that makes you feel seasick, unsteady.

“Turn to the side for me,” you say quietly, and the thin paper that lines the exam table rustles as he complies.  The relief you feel when he pivots away from you with those eyes and that look is whole-bodied.  

“For now, the best I can do is probably pop -- “

Your words trail off as your eyes lock on a wound that sits just a few inches from his spine, just above the line of his jeans.  The edges are white and soft with age -- the area long-healed -- but the trauma is unmistakable.  

Textbook.  

The anger you feel as you stare at the wound doesn’t make any sense.  

But you feel it anyway.

“Is it still inside of you, or did they pull it out?”

“What -- ”

“-- The bullet Mister Kim,” you interrupt sharply.  “If it’s still in you, I promise it will come out the second they load you into an MRI machine.  The hard way.”

The muscles of his back flex as he stiffens.  Tension bleeds into the lines of his body and into his voice when he finally speaks.

“It’s out.”

Neither of you says another word.

The room feels hollow now, painfully quiet without talk of elephants or hot air balloons or milkshakes.  The two of you work together silently to crack his abused shoulder back into place.  Somehow he manages to endure that pain without making a sound.

In the end, it’s you that has to speak first.

“That should hold you for now,” you say tightly, standing to toss your gloves in the trash.   You grab your tablet to make notes.

“You mad at me, Doc?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you mutter, fingers flying over your screen.  “I don’t even know you.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re mad at me?”

You tear your eyes away from the screen to find his.  

There’s no teasing or humor there anymore.  He looks boyish and unsure like this, peering back at you with somber eyes from beneath long black bangs that have fallen into his face.

“No more stories, no more bullshit.  Tell me who you are.”

The words are out of your mouth before you can think better of them -- before you can consider how stupid it is to interrogate a complete stranger with a now confirmed history of violence.  Before you can consider that you have no right to the anger that now streaks white-hot through your veins.

“I can’t,” he breathes quietly.  “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head in disgust.

“Are you dangerous?”

Before he even speaks, you get your answer.  You get it in the way color erupts across the bridge of his nose and cheeks.  The way he looks away from you and down to his hands.

“I guess that depends on who you ask,” he whispers.

“I’m asking you,” you fire back.

He doesn’t answer.

You stand there for what feels like an eternity, waiting for him to say something in his defense. Waiting for him to pull another gag and tell just one more ridiculous story.  But the seconds tick by and he says nothing.

“A nurse is going to come by with a sling. She’ll help you get dressed, too,” you say tightly, walking to the door.

You don’t know why your heart feels like it seizes in your chest when you turn to give him one more look.

“Take care of yourself, Mister Kim,” you say quietly.  “And don’t come back.”

*****************************

Glossary:

Dijeoteu: dessert

Jagiya: sweetie, sweetheart

*****************************

Tag List!

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[sylvie-writes]

Chain of Events

word count: 2500

pairing: andy barber x female reader

warnings: cheating, age gap, some profanity.

request: can i request a andy barber x fem!reader where the reader is his asisstant and his secret mistress (in mid 20s) which she always stick by his side and help him through jacob's trail. after the trail he divorced w laurie and they got marry and have a baby girl please!! thank you!!

a/n: sorry for the wait! i hope you enjoy lovely! ngl this really fueled my love for andy. 

please excuse any mistakes!

It wasn’t something you were proud of. Something that had started off as a night with a few innocent drinks paved the way for a never ending cycle. At times you felt dirty and awful, yet that didn’t stop you from going to see him every other night. Even when you had the slightest feeling that Laurie had a hunch, it didn’t stop you. Especially when things got dark for Andy, you were the one to hold him close and not his wife. It felt so right although extremely wrong all at the same time. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Currently, you were sitting in your apartment bed, spending your Friday night a bit differently than most. Rain gushed from the sky and rhythmically hit your bedroom window which you were spaced out on, many thoughts running through your mind and a glass of wine occasionally hitting your lips. Using your free hand you softly ran your fingers through the mop of hair that belonged to Andy who was passed out in your lap. His breathing was even and it did your heart good to see him so peaceful for once. Just two hours ago, he called you, sounding so broken and vulnerable which was out of the ordinary for Andy. The minute you answered the door, he flung himself at you and held you tight, whispering repeatedly “don’t leave me, please.” 

It absolutely tore you to pieces to hear him say that and you were quick to reassure him that it wasn’t even possible. You then lead him to the bedroom to ask what had happened. 

“Is everything alright? Talk to me, Andy.” You placed a set of his pajamas into his hands but not without a pleading look in your eyes when meeting his own sullen ones.

“Laurie’s adamant it’s him, but (y/n)-” Placing a finger on his lips, you hushed him. 

“I know, I know. You just have to ignore it okay? Laurie is just,” Pausing, you chose your next words wisely, “having a hard time with it all. Everyone copes differently.” 

He sadly nodded before standing to kiss your forehead and make his way to the bathroom to get changed and cleaned up a bit. 

The two of you continued to chat about Jacob’s trial once Andy returned from the bathroom, and he confided in you in many ways more than one. You’d never seen Andy so open, even with yourself, and clearly it helped him quite a bit as he was now relaxed. 

Time had flown and amongst your thoughts, one stood out to you in particular. When would Laurie start to question where he was? Andy always had some bullshit excuse ready to give her and would then tell you that it would be alright. Normally, before you had time to truly convince yourself, Andy’s lips would be on yours or his hands would caress you gently and you’d melt into him as did your cares. Except for now. 

The two had just gotten into a huge fight and you were sure Andy hadn’t even thought twice about telling her where he was going. Even if he did, Laurie would surely be on the lookout for his return. 

Carefully reaching over to your nightstand, you grabbed your phone to check the time and noticed that it was getting late. 

“Andy? My love, when do you have to go home?” You leaned down to whisper to the sleeping man who groaned in return. 

You repeated his name once more, this time slightly shaking his shoulder to which he rolled onto his back, a goofy grin on his lips as he looked up at you. “Well hello, honey.” 

From Andy’s point of view, you peered down at him like a disappointed mother but with a faint smile upon her lips at her child’s goofiness. 

“Nice of you to join me, sleeping beauty. I was wondering what time you had to get home. It’s starting to rain more heavily and Laurie-”

Andy sat up and turned himself so he’d be sitting shoulder to shoulder with you. Silently, he took your empty wine glass from your hand, leaning to place it on your nightstand. As he did so, he didn’t let go of your wrist, which he brought to his lips when he returned to face you. 

Murmuring against your wrist, he started to place soft and delicate kisses to the smooth skin there. “Don’t worry about it. I told her I’d be back tomorrow morning.” 

“But Andy, she knows you don’t have anywhere to stay.” You didn’t want to exactly say “Hey! Andy, you have no friends and your wife knows that!” but it was implied in a kinder way. Andy picked up on this, clearly deflecting when he just nodded in response and started to place more kisses up your forearm. 

Letting out a frustrated “hmph,” you let Andy carry on before he victoriously smiled at you.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The vicious cycle went on throughout the course of Jacob’s trial as things between Andy and his wife got worse. Even though they both lived under the same roof, slept in the same bed, and put on a facade for Jacob, they were practically separated. One night Andy drunkenly showed up on your doorstep, confessing how he had come home to find Laurie with another man. In a fit of rage he let the cat out of the bag that he had been seeing you. Funny how things work. 

You knew they were both wrong, so instead of shaming either one of them, you just let Andy cling to you for comfort. When Andy was drunk, he was like a big child and if the circumstances were different, you’d been laughing, but rather you soothingly rubbed his back and listened as that’s all he needed. Someone who would just listen.

At three in the morning, he most definitely needed you as well when you found his head in the bowl of the toilet and not sleepily nestled in your neck. (Which was ironic as the two of you would be switching places very soon.)

Christmas came quick and along with it, many miracles, one being that Jacob was not convicted.

Just as Andy was in a rush to tell you the news, Laurie was even faster to serve the divorce papers to him. In a relationship, you and your partner are supposed to be able to push through tough times without breaking. With that being said, Andy and Laurie mutually agreed that they had failed and it was time they both quit lying to themselves. It was time for real happiness. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

“(y/n) meet me at our favorite restaurant in thirty minutes.”

You were working on some case files for Neil, despite your hatred for him, and tried to tell Andy that you were busy at the moment. He didn’t listen but continued to insist that you meet him there. His tone wasn’t demanding, but it was...excited? Surely, Andy had been excited over things in his life, but you’d never actually heard the usually emotionless man speak with such ardor. 

Setting down the case files, you rushed to put on some real pants and a blouse, but nothing too fancy or flashy as you had no idea what was about to happen. 

When you arrived at the restaurant, Andy happily flagged you over. He wore the biggest smile ever and you were borderline concerned. What could have him this happy? Was he getting back with Laurie? As much as you wanted them to be a functioning family, you weren’t sure if you could deal with such heartbreak because Andy really did feel like the one. 

Ever the gentleman, Andy pulled out your chair and handed you a small bouquet as you sat in the wooden seat. Before he walked away, the man planted a smack of a kiss on your lips and hurried back to his seat since he saw the waiter out of the corner of his eye. As the waiter approached, you were just sitting there, the most shocked expression on your face as it settled within you what Andy had just done. Long ago when this whole fiasco began, you and Andy always kept it professional when out in public because so many people knew him and word could get out easily that he was cheating. 

The minute the waiter left, you were quick to chastise Andy who just laughed as if it were the funniest thing in the world which left you a bit angered. 

Since the restaurant was quiet, you extended yourself across the table so Andy could hear your harsh muttering. 

“Do you realize what you just did, Barber?!” Andy shook his head in a content manner and at this point steam was about to emerge from your ears. Before all hell could break loose and you go ballistic, Andy cut in to explain. 

“Jacob, he’s a free man!” Andy looked at you with an awaiting smile and your face immediately softened, but for only a second as that didn’t explain why he was parading your relationship out like this. Didn’t he know what he was risking, not only for himself, but you.

Your counterpart noticed the sudden change of expression on your face and continued, “But among other things, I meant to tell you that Laurie and I got divorced recently.” 

“Oh hon, I am so sorry.” Reaching across the table, you comfortingly ran your thumb over the back of his hand, but he just shook his head in detest.

“No no, it’s not a bad thing because it just opened the gateway for this,” Andy pulled his hand away and went to dig in his coat pocket. You thought to yourself, no he couldn’t be-

“(y/n), I’m gonna make this short, but sweet. You mean the world to me and I could spend all night listing off why I love you, but that will never do justice, so instead, I ask that you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?” 

His cliche, yet utterly adorable speech could make a person’s heart melt and instantly say yes, but you’ve always been a thinker, and maybe Andy had accounted for that a bit in his proposal. 

“Andrew! You just got divorced!” In a semi-whisper slash hiss, you bent over so only he could hear, hiding your words from the prying onlookers as if you had top secret info spilling from your lips. 

“I know, but, (y/n), you are the one.” He looked a bit awkward being on his knee for so long and the ring box still patiently in hand as you processed his question. Nonetheless, Andy continued to hopefully smile at you, ignoring all of the whispers, until you excitedly replied “yes” just a mere second later, though it felt like ages for him. 

This proposal was definitely gonna be a story for generations. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

You and Andy settled for a simple courthouse wedding with just your parents in attendance as witnesses. The two of you were never really used to flaunting your relationship, and even though you could now, it just wasn’t ideal. Besides, you had bigger things to worry about.

For example, when just a few weeks after your short-lived honeymoon, you noticed some changes and came to the conclusion that you were pregnant. 

One night, you casually brought up the idea of more kids to Andy to test the waters. 

“Hey love, you awake?”

Andy lifted his eyes from his book, no longer looking as if he was asleep. He nodded his head and set the book aside giving you his full attention. 

“What’s up, gorgeous?”

“I was thinking… what if we were to have a kid. Would you be opposed to that?”

The reaction on Andy’s face was most definitely not the one in mind and he looked as if you had asked him the most appalling question on earth. 

“(y/n), I love kids,” He chuckled a bit, “I thought I made that clear, you know, by being a dad and all.” 

His lame attempt at making a “joke” eased your nerves and you just came straightforward with the gold. 

“Andy, I think I am pregnant.” 

And faster than a predator can pounce, Andy was on you in seconds, his arms hugging you close as he whispered words of excitement. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Nine months later and that statement was very true as you held a bundle of joy in your arms. Your hours numb in pain couldn't even be compared to the gift that was before you. Andy could hardly keep his hands off your stomach for the past few months and he never failed to speak to your daughter as if she was actually there. Now that her presence was finally in the world, Andy was yet to look away from her small figure and his smile hadn’t withered the slightest. 

The nurse had stepped out a few minutes ago, giving both you and Andy some time and privacy with your newborn. Even though drowsiness overcame your body, you visibly forced yourself awake just to absorb all the time you could with her. Little ones grow up in a flash and you weren't going to miss a second if it was up to you.

Andy joined you in the hospital bed when you silently invited him in with a soft pat to the crinkly sheets. Once he snuggled up against your side, you carefully passed the little baby who was about to have her first contact with her father. 

As Andy played with her mini hands, you sleepily rested your head on his broad shoulder, watching the two and already figuring out that they’d be lifelong friends. 

“They always say with age comes wiseness, but darlin’, your momma gives that phrase a run for its money.”

You giggled at your husband’s words and propped up the little darling the smallest bit so she could “see” you and her dad. 

“Don’t listen to Daddy, munchkin. The grey in his beard says otherwise.” 

“Hey! I’m not that old, I was still able to knock-” Backhanding Andy’s leg caused him to dramatically cut his sentence short. There were plenty of years for him to taint your daughter’s innocence.

 As you observed the two, you noticed Andy gazed at her as if she hung the moon and stars for him, a familiar look he often gave you. Possibly from the lack of energy or just being enamored with the interaction, a sweet tear slipped from your own eye. Upon closer inspection, one could see that a subtle tear fell from the man beside you.

If Andrew Stephen Barber had known all those years ago he’d be here with a second chance at life, he would’ve never even waited another second to be with you. It’s funny how life can send you down the most twisted paths, yet have you come out with the most precious of gifts. 

 taglist: @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @aubreeskailynn @calirindo @lady-elena-adeline @siriuslyslyslytherin @sushiinmidnight @patzammit @iwik3it​

a/n: what did you guys think? it feels like ages since i’ve written anything, and I am sure you can tell haha

if you are new here, check out my masterlist at the top of my blog for more Andy Barber (and Chris Evans characters) writing. I’d link it but tumblr always tag blocks me :( 

[silv3rswirls]

Learning Experience part one

Professor Namjoon Smut

Anon asks: Yay!! Requests are open again 🥳Okay okay.. Professor Joon getting a blowjob from student! reader. 🤐 by blowjob i mean using their throats as a fleshlisht 👀Gotta have the dirty talk and degradation. 🥺 Please, bit heavier and dirtier this time 🥺 (consensual but it depends on you. No pressure 😅) 😋 Oh and add anything please add the spitting kink you like. Thanks for bearing with me btw 👉👈❤️❤️ Have a nice day ❤️❤️ this is gonna be fun 👀👀

NOT PROFESSOR JOON! Kinky anon you need to stop hitting all my favorite kinks. It’s a problem- are you reading my mind over here? 

Warnings: Female reader, student/professor, dirty talk/degradation, blowjob, spitting, slight corruption kink

Word Count: 1.5k

nsfw below the cut!

It was safe to say that Kim Namjoon was one of the most attractive professors at your college. It seemed that all the girls who took his class swooned for him. Personally, you had never seen all the excitement over him, that was until you took his class. The truth was that Namjoon was undoubtedly attractive. Tall with swept-back hair, professional, and he had one of the most beautiful dimpled smiles you had come across. Not to mention his voice; a rich and velvety tone that you could listen to his lecture all day.

You liked to think of yourself better than falling for your professor, but clearly, you were wrong.

As hot as Namjoon was, his class was tough. He was a serious teacher who didn’t believe in babying his students and you liked that about his class, but halfway through the semester, you found your grades beginning to slip. Once they fell it was hard to get the backup, trapped under a mountain of reading and assignments you found yourself close to failing. Namjoon normally didn’t keep a close track of his students grades, nor did he call them in to talk about them. Once you had noticed him holding a student back to discuss his grades, but other than that it seemed everyone was supposed to fend for themselves. So, when he told you to stay behind you were quite surprised, and nervous. You talked about your grades, even about some extra credit. You weren’t entirely sure what led you to be on your knees under his desk with his dick in your mouth, but you weren’t complaining.

After that encounter you noticed Namjoon being a tad more lenient with your work, just a bit, but you took whatever you could get. And while you wanted to lie to yourself and say that blowing him after school hours was an isolated occurrence deep down you wanted it to happen again. You had dated before, but nothing ever crossed into the bedroom. Your professor being one of your first sexual experiences was, well, exciting. Namjoon clearly knew what he was doing and didn’t seem to mind you fumbling through your first blowjob. The dirty things he told you with that deep voice of his had been music to your ears, and you wanted more. So you asked to speak to him after class and it happened again and you waited anxiously for the next time he would tell you to come to him after school. 

It seemed that today was your lucky day. You were currently sitting before him, knee’s growing sore against the hard floor as you bobbed up and down his length. His hand was tangled laxly in your hair, occasionally you found his fingers tense, debating whether or not to pull your hair or not. It was one of the few things you noticed when the two of you got together, he seemed to be holding back what he really wanted. He treated you softly, may be unsure if he should take things to a rougher place. You were a stranger to most things that weren’t considered vanilla, but you wanted nothing more than to please your professor. You pulled away from him, adjusting your position before looking up at Namjoon, who stared back with a quirked eyebrow. “What’s wrong?” 

You shook your head, “nothing’s wrong” you muttered, feeling yourself grow a bit embarrassed to bring it up. “It’s just...if you want to be rougher with me, you can.”

“Oh really?” he asked, his hand coming to cup your face, thumb swiping away the dribble of saliva at the corner of your mouth. “You want me to be rough?” He asked again, his deep voice making you squirm in place. You blink up at him, worried at the tone he had taken. 

“Only if you want…”

To your surprise, he smiled, “you’ll do anything to please me, hm?” He hummed, pulling you in closer and tipping your head to stare up at him. “What a whore” he grinned and you bit your lip to hide your smile. You had never known how much the world of degradation and dirty talk turned you until you started your little escapades with your professor. He pulled you back onto his dick, telling you to tap his thigh twice if things became too much. You hummed, sure that you wouldn’t be stopping him. Giving Namjoon pleasure had become one of your favorite pastimes and it only worked to turn you on more and more. 

Namjoon grabbed the back of your head to push you down further. Obediently you opened your mouth wider to take him all over him and you shuddered when you felt the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. He held you there for a moment, letting you adjust and get your breathing in control. Namjoon took a moment to take in your expression, side innocent eyes gazing up at him with tears beginning to brim them. “Such a pretty slut” he sighed, tightening his grip on your hair before starting to move you up and down his shaft. You tried your best to keep your jaw slack, but you couldn’t help the little coughs and sputters escape. He didn’t stop though, increasing his speed and building apace. “Don’t worry” he cooed, “we’ll get rid of that gag reflect, won’t we?” He hummed at the warm tongue running along his shaft and your throat constricting now and again. “Such a whore, letting your teacher use your face like this.” he peered down at you, the sight of your choking and gasping made him bite his lip, not ready to climax and end the fun just yet. Small tears bubbled in your eyes, falling down your cheeks as he used you. “Letting me use you just so you pass” he repeated, “too much of a dumb slut to do the work yourself, have to suck me off instead. You like this better don’t you slut?” You squealed in shock when he titled your head up a little more and spat onto you, mixing with the tears falling down your cheek.

If you were able to, you would’ve nodded. You were almost ashamed to admit how often you thought about your professor using you like this. You thought about how many times you had sat down to do your work at home, only to let your thoughts drift to Namjoon and your times together and get too turned on to keep working; devolving to desperately trying to get yourself off at the thought of him and wishing he would just bend you over his desk and fuck you. Without warning, you felt Namjoon still his movements as he shot his load into your mouth, pulling you off halfway and letting a few strings of cum hit your face. Namjoon groaned, watching a mix of cum and spit dribbled down your chin and onto your clothes. Namjoon wished his phone was near him so he could take a picture of your red and teary face, cum, and spit dribbling down and your hair a tangled mess around it. 

Before you could even get up to clean yourself off you felt Namjoon push you roughly under his desk as someone knocked on the door. Worry bubbled up in your chest as you heard one of the other professors walk in to ask Namjooon a few questions. You pressed your back against the desk, trying to get rid of the discomfort of your position. Namjoon talked back casually as if he hadn’t just been using you like a toy. You chewed on your lip, shifting at the wetness that had pooled between your legs. Namjoon’s foot tapped you lightly when a small whimper escaped you. You gasped, his shoe coming to press between your legs. You gripped at his thigh as he rubbed your cunt. You tried your best to conceal your moans and gasps, waiting desperately for the other professor to leave. 

Finally, when the door closed and the two of you were alone again Namjoon pulled away from you. He peered down at you, a small smirk playing at his lips. “So eager to get off on my shoe?” Your face was bright red and you gave a shy nod as he pulled you up, pushing you to sit on the edge of his desk. His hands massaged over your thighs, slipping under your skirt in no time and yanking your panties down. You whined, his fingers slipping into you his thumb rubbing your clit quickly. You squirmed and moaned under his movements, “you want to cum?” He asked and you nodded, muttering a tired and whiny please in response. “Look at you, all covered in my cum and spit, begging for me to let you cum. God, you're so desperate, come on and cum slut.” You moaned, trying to keep your volume down as you came all over his fingers. Namjoon smirked, watching you fall apart before him. You felt him brush your hair back from your face, his hand moving to pet your hair as he took in your appearance. “Come see me again tomorrow” he grinned, “there’s still a lot to explore with you.”

You nodded tiredly, already too excited to wait for tomorrow’s lesson.

[lokislastlove]

Best Laid Plans (Fluffy Bucky x Reader) p3

Summary: Bucky is determined to woo you properly, no matter how rusty he is at dating these days.

Warnings: Some smut at the end, oral (fr), Bucky has bad luck, but we love him anyway. 18+ only please.

This is my first attempt at Fluff, it is not my strength, to say the least, so by all means ignore this. @saiyanprincessswanie I wrote this for you, I hope you like it and with any luck maybe it brings a tiny smile to your face when you need it. 💕 Also remember this is fiction, I know Bucky’s arm is fancy as hell and has no flaws.

Chapter 3 -

🌹 The Third Date 🌹

The office is abuzz with rumors of your new romance. For obvious reasons Pepper never shuns coworkers dating, but does caution that she expects everyone to remain professional regardless of the outcome. Bucky is one of the most sought after bachelors in the building so naturally people notice when he fixes his attention on you. For the two days following your fruit-filled frolic in the hills Bucky is constantly around. He brings you coffee, flowers by the dozen every day, saves you a seat during the meetings, cooks you lunch and even brings Kal in to see you.

“Okay, I can’t wait any longer. You willing to give me that second chance, tomorrow?” Bucky bursts into your office an hour before you leave Friday evening.

You gasp as the door slams against the wall and he cringes, “uh, sure. I’m free tomorrow. Should I just go ahead and wear my yoga pants?”

“Ha ha. Very funny. And no. I let Steve pick the date idea this time. Just don’t wear anything that you don’t want getting a little dirty,” he winks.

You let out a sigh, “wouldn’t it be easier to just tell me what we’re doing?”

“That’s no fun, Angel.”

——

The next morning you wake up to a text from Bucky, just like you have every morning since your first date.

Good Morning, Beautiful! Can’t wait to see you today. I’ll pick you up at 11am. 😀

Bucky has managed to make waking up a highlight of your day, something you never thought possible. Plus you got him to start using emojis, which Steve claims he will never forgive you for.

You choose some dark wash jeans and a V-neck t-shirt with a jacket and boots. Stylish but casual, you feel good, excited to find out what adventure Bucky will be dragging you into this time.

Your phone dings as you race out the front door and gulp when you see the bike again. God he looks good with it though, his light brown leather jacket highlights his olive skin and his dimpled smile has you swooning as you reach him. Determined to get a hang of this motorcycle thing you jump on back and cling to Bucky with a bit more confidence today.

Bucky reigns in his speed this time, and you find yourself enjoying the rush of the wind on your face and the warmth of him in your arms. To your shock Bucky leads you to a ceramic shop not far from Avengers tower, specifically for couples pottery class.

“Steve assures me that this is supposed to be fun and romantic,” Bucky says as you find yourself sitting next to him on a dirty stool with a spinning round table in front of you.

“Steve hasn’t been watching old romance movies again, has he?”

Bucky squints at you, “Actually, yeah but he said it had ghosts in it, and I got enough of those.”

You grab his hand and give it a squeeze before taking a deep breath, “Ok, let’s do this!”

It takes about a minute to realize what a terrible idea this is as Bucky curses under his breath and his arm starts making strange whirling noises.

“Oh shit, uh is clay good for your arm?” You ask, nodding at the way the plates of his metal arm seems to twitch and groan as the wet clay slide and congeal between them as they shift.

“Fuck,” Bucky curses as he shakes out his metal arm and you grimace at the worrisome noise it makes before it stops moving all together.

“Do you want to take it off?” you offer.

Bucky looks frustrated with a hint of panic as he sits there contemplating the best move. He still isn’t very comfortable going without his arm in public.

“Or we could just decide not to take Steve’s dating advice anymore and go back to the tower and get cleaned up?” You laugh and bump him with your elbow.

He scoffs out a laugh, “yeah. You know I used to be the one that was good at this stuff, I was the charming one who helped get Steve a date.”

“Oh is that so? Well I think you’re doing better than you think you are,” you smirk.

“Yeah?” He asks hopefully.

“Yeah, now come on Casanova,” you stand and wipe your hands on the towel nearby.

You can’t help but laugh as you follow him out the door, looking at the light gleam off the metal that isn’t covered in clay.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just… gonna be hard to convince me you’re not a complete mess after this one.”

——

You could tell Bucky’s confidence had taken a major hit, well three major hits to be honest. And while he constantly berated himself for everything that went wrong, you couldn’t help but love him even more with each blunder. And when he doesn’t insist you give him another shot after that disastrous pottery date, you seek out Steve’s advice.

“Do you think I should try to make a move? Ask him on a date maybe? Or is that insulting to … men from your era,” you finish awkwardly.

Steve laughs softly, “I think Bucky could use a sign that you aren’t willing to give up yet. You should give it a shot, as long as it’s what you want and not just out of pity.”

“Of course it’s not out of pity, you really think I’d do that?” you ask, trying not to get too offended.

“No, doll, of course I don’t. But that’s likely what he’s going to think.” He placates and gives you a knowing look before walking out of your office.

You push back your shoulders and pull out your phone to text Bucky.

Hey if you’re free tonight you should come over to my place. Maybe around 8pm? No dress code. 😘

🌹 The Fourth Date 🌹

Bucky arrives at 7:50pm that evening and you push the buzzer to let him in. You leave the door cracked for him and finish the final touches.

“Angel?” He calls as he knocks and you hear the door creak open. “Uh, hello?” His voice falters as he closes the door behind him and takes in the candles neatly arranged along a path of rose petals.

You hear him remove his heavy boots and call your name as he follows the path further into your apartment and closer to where you’re waiting for him. You shift nervously on your feet as you wait with baited breath for him to appear around the corner.

“Angel, what’s going..” His voice gets caught in his throat as he stands in your doorway and sees you waiting for him.

You’re wearing a simple nightgown, a silky robe and stockings. The thin straps and sleek material drape softly over your curves, enticing enough to make him pause but not overly revealing to be considered scandalous. You didn’t want to be too bold and scare him off too fast, or make yourself appear too desperate.

“Hi, Bucky,” you smile as you watch his pupils dilate and his chest strain against his shirt as his breathing gets heavier.

He clears his throat and his cheeks glow pink as his eyes flick up to meet yours, “uh hey, Angel. Am I dreaming?”

You laugh as you take a few steps toward him and he mirrors you, “I just thought that maybe I’d surprise you with a date, this time. If you’re up for it.”

“Well, I will admit that my interest is quite peaked already.” He jokes, his eyes roving down your body once more as he gently takes your hands and holds them out to get a better look at you.

You giggle and rolls your eyes, “Nothing crazy, just a simple movie date, and I have the perfect set up. Follow me.”

You pull him over to your bedroom window and climb out onto the fire escape, he follows closely, his curiosity climbing with each creaky step.

“You sure this is safe?” He asks as the stairs rattle under his weight.

“No,” you say simply as you reach the top, “but it’s worth it.”

Bucky’s eyes widen as he takes in the rooftop space that you’ve meticulously decorated for him. Strings of lights hang on the low rooftop walls. A large air mattress is tucked between the pipes and vents, facing a large projector screen. You made sure to add mountains of fluffy pillows and soft blankets to keep you cozy under the stars.

“This is amazing,” he mutters as he eyes the plate of snacks and bottle of wine waiting on the bed.

“I know, isn’t the view amazing? I’ve always loved it up here, but I didn’t know it had this much potential until now,” you remark as you look out onto the glimmering view of the city skyline.

Bucky’s fingers slip between yours and curl sweetly as he guides you over to the soft bed. He flops down and settles in before opening his arm for you to join him. You grab the remote and the wine and curl up next to him. Drawing up your legs and letting them rest against his muscular thigh.

“I don’t deserve all this,” he utters sadly as he watches you pour the wine.

“Steve said you’d say something stupid like that,” you laugh as he looks stunned for a moment. “So let me just settle this right now.” You take deep breath and let it out with a quiet huff.

“I have been the happiest I’ve ever been since you asked me out on that first date. I look forward to waking up every morning knowing I’ll get to see you and possibly, maybe, do more than just ogle you from afar. Oh don’t look at me like that!” You laugh and smack Bucky’s shoulder when he smirks at you and wiggles his brow.

“I know you think you blew it after our first three dates but all I remember is seeing a passionate man willing to chase down a dog through the mud, even if it meant embarrassing himself. I remember you saving me from a potentially fatal injury, and I remember a man so desperate to impress me that he took advice from Steve Rogers,” you bite your lip as you watch Bucky choke out a laugh at your jab at his best friend.

“You may think all of these moments are flaws, but honestly I wouldn’t want to change a single thing. So let’s just –” Your speech is cut off when Bucky’s hands are suddenly on the side of your face and pull you in for a blazing kiss.

It’s as though you’ve unlocked something in him as he devours you, his tongue trailing across your lip and delving into your mouth when you open for him. You moan as his hands slip down to your neck, his thumbs pressing ever so slightly on your pressure points before he pulls away just enough to kiss and nibble along your jaw. The pleasure and passion is dizzying and you feel your body bend to his will. Your hands grasp at his shirt as he nuzzles and sucks along your neck now, making his way to your clavicle.

The feather pillow braces your head as Bucky lays you down and hovers above you, his body heat warming you as the cool night breeze tickles over each spot he kisses.

“God, Angel, you have no idea how badly I want you right now. How badly I’ve wanted you for so long.” He groans against your chest, dragging his nose over the thin material between your breasts.

“Me too,” you breathe.

You push at the lapel of his jacket, trying to urge him to take it off. He sits up, fixing his eyes on you as he slowly strips off his coat and tosses it away, followed by his shirt immediately after. Your breath hitches as you let your fingers lightly glide down his stomach, feeling every ripple of firm muscle under his heated skin.

“Wow, the girls at work would be so jealous right now,” you kid.

“I’m almost offended that you think this is my best feature,” he scoffs gesturing to his stomach, his eyes glinting mischievously.

“By all means, show me more. I did come up here for a show after all,” you tease, tilting your head and biting your lip as you eye the growing bulge in his pants.

“Oh, I think I know how to keep you entertained,” he smirks and lowers himself over you, his hot breath leaving goosebumps on your skin as he dips lower down your body.

You look down as he pauses over your quivering center and lifts the hem of your dress up to reveal your lace panties. He growls lowly and hooks his finger under them, pulling them quickly to the side. You twitch as he blows lightly over your lips, the cool air hitting the slick arousal already pooling between your thighs. He chuckles as you grip the blankets tightly and he pushes his long thick tongue between your folds, circling your bud at the top. You let out a long moan as his fervor increases, the feeling of his rough tongue dipping into your dripping hole and then back up to flick over your clit is driving you closer and closer to the edge.

After the past two weeks of the most intense sexual tension you’ve ever experienced it doesn’t take much for him to have you squirming under his touch. Your toes curl and a broken scream echoes over the rooftops as you come on his hungry lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he coos as your eyes flutter open and see him hovering over your face once more.

Your jaw slackens, pupils blown as you take in his debauched state, his tousled hair, lips and beard glistening with your come. You reach up and pull him down to you, tasting yourself on his tongue. You feel his metal arm fumble with his jeans between you as he pulls out his aching cock. Your eyes flick down in curiosity and you can’t help but gasp as you gaze at his veiny, thick length.

“You see how hard you make me?” He moans, fisting the base of his leaking cock.

You bite your lip, feeling an overwhelming desire to let him use you in any way he wants. Your body arching into him and your hips rolling desperately. Your submissive side blooming under his dominant tone.

You whimper and meet his eye, “fuck me, Bucky. Please.”

Your voice is soft and timid, nothing like the typical commanding confidence you have in your daily life, and it sends a thrill through Bucky. He latches onto your thighs and pushes them up toward your chest, exposing your cunt to him and he guides himself inside, moaning freely as your walls stretch to fit him.

“I’m never letting you go. My perfect, Angel.”

[pradaksj]

the swimming lessons

all rights reserved © pradaksj

↳do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

❧ pairing⟶  jungkook/reader

❧ genre⟶  swimminginstructor!jungkook , fluff, a bit of comedy? head canon/bullet points 

❧ rating⟶ e for everyone??? none??? idk how ratings work lol i just know that m = the dirty, which this story has none of

❧ word count ⟶ 5,000 

❧ summary ⟶  accidental swimming lessons with jungkook were definitely worth the money 

❧ a/n ⟶ i literally dreamt something similar to this in like january and told myself i'd write about it when i had the time so hear i am :)) this goes out to all my folks who can’t swim !! i'm on the same boat with you , get it?  cause we can’t swim ... ok anyways ... enjoy ! (note: i have not proofread this yet so sorry for any mistakes!! ill get to it soon !! ) 

“hello, welcome to lucky duck swim school, how can i help you?” the receptionist, who was loudly chewing her gum, sounded more like an automated voice message than a person...

see today was your first official swimming lesson

yay!! 

how fun!! ...

://

totally not embarrassing for someone your age !!!

honestly, it wasn't your fault you didn’t have any family members or friends with a big pool you could learn in growing up 

and by the time you did, you were too much of in an awkward phase to be properly taught

aka your body absolutely refusing to float on its own anymore

but after several trips to the beach with friends and attending different pool parties, you were tired of being made fun of !! 

no longer would you remain at 5 feet and under !!! not on your watch ! 

and so here you were, ready to start your journey into the world of swimming :)) 

“hi i um have a swimming lesson at 3 with um ... i believer her name was um—” 

hmmm what was her name ??? jennie??? no, maybe it was aaliyah ??? no that wasn’t it.... 

the receptionist taps on her keyboard buttons, her long nails making a noise 

pop, her bubblegum goes 

“jungkook” 

“yeah jungkook” you mindlessly say. 

wait 

WAIIITT

jungkook????

ummmmm 

that was not the game given to you by the last receptionist 

jungkook is a boy’s name !!! 

you didn’t want a boy instructor !!! 

not with the way you were looking 

“i um—i had asked for a girl instructor—” you awkwardly mention 

she rolls her eyes

um RUDE 

she continues clacking with her keyboard, looking for god knows what 

she sighs 

“there’s no slots with female instructors available for today, nor for the rest of the month, the earliest i can probably squeeze you in by is july.” she bluntly states. 

JULY??? 

july was when you needed to already know how to swim !!

that’s the peak of summer ! 

there was no point in knowing during winter or any other season besides summer for that matter 

and you were not going to get made of by your friends this year

no no NO

“soo do i reschedule you or.....” 

you sigh 

“no ill take it” you pout, resembling a child. 

“it it makes you feel any better, jungkook’s our best instructor, most popular too” 

wink 

oh yeah that makes you feel so much better 

>:( 

you were going to make a complete fool out of yourself in front of the so called “best instructor” 

“well go get yourself washed up, get into the pool, and jungkook will be with you shortly” she smiles, her attitude now changing now that (what looked to be a supervisor) was passing by. 

what a bi—

flip flop. flip flop. flip flop. 

your sandles press onto the water on the floor of the girls locker room, a grouchy look now on your face 

this wasn't fair 

you made an appointment with a female instructor!! 

you didn’t care if he was the best instructor or the most popular ...

squeeaaakkk , you twist the rusty shower handle

...because now you were you were going to be judged for your lack of skills 

not that you had any to begin with, but still! 

god, you sounded like such a karen ... 

it’s just ...

a guy instructor ??? 

really??? 

you understood that this wasn’t elementary school anymore and boys certainly didn’t have cooties anymore but like :// 

no no, you had to give this jungkook guy the benefit of the doubt

if he was one of the best, it was clearly because he was professional and good at what he does 

putting your worries to rest, you turn off the shower 

this was going to be fine

just fine 

clearly your worries were not put to rest 

just a temporary halt 

:) 

pat. pat. pat. 

okay let’s get it ! 

making your way out to the pool, you dip your foot in 

ooooo 

cold

VERY cold indeed 

1 ...2...

you dip your whole leg in, quickly using the momentum to place your whole body in 

“5 feet and below ... you’re my bitch !!” you think to yourself 

your hand still clearly gripping onto the ledge, still afraid of accidentally reaching 6ft

.... now to wait 

“megan seems to have fractured her leg last weekend on a rollerskating day gone bad, so you’ll be taking up her appointments for the next month of two until she’s cleared for work” 

huh ???

“but—” 

“also she, well now you i guess, have a lesson to teach at..” 

jungkook’s supervisor looks down at his watch 

“oh i guess in 30 minutes, could’ve sworn it was at 4..” he mumbles that last part to himself

30 minutes?! 

“don’t worry i’ll up your pay for the remaining time that she gets better” 

he winks ;) making a clicking noise with his mouth before leaving the staff room 

jungkook sighs 

today was supposed to be an easy day :/ 

a simple cleaning of the pool along with a couple of measly hours of being the lifeguard and that would’ve been it but noooo 

he just had to be the highest rated swimming instructor on the company website 

he couldn’t complain though, sometimes it was fun reading the reviews past students left, even if sometimes they were a little too...

whats the word...

provocative? 

it often made him wonder if he was in fact an actual good swimming instructor or if the high highly rated reviews were for other reasons.... 

honestly it’d be dumb of him not to acknowledge the amount of googly eyes he’d get ranging from the mother’s of his younger students to his actual adult students (female and male) 

he just liked to think that didn’t come into play when they wrote their reviews 

hehe 

changing into his black fitted rash guard, he glanced at megan’s schedule 

name : y/n 

age: 23 grown

swimming level: beginner  aka noob. 

he chuckles to himself 

well won’t this be fun 

he couldn’t lie beginner adult swimmers were always a spectacle to watch 

they almost reminded him of baby ducks learning how to swim 

only that they’d verbally curse their frustrations here and there 

quickly showering, he begins to make his way to the pool 

hmm, he wonders..

what should he eat after today’s lesson? 

a bacon cheese burger sounded really good 

maybe even grab himself some birria tacos from that new restaurant that just opened near his apartment 

hmm no he had to start spending less on takeout 

sigh 

looks like it’d be rame—

woah 

as corny as it sounded, he could’ve sworn he felt his heart skip a beat 

because whoever it was in that pool was pretty, like really pretty 

hOly ????? 

wowzers 

you couldn’t be y/n ... could you?!?!?! 

you were the only person who looked 23 years of age in the pool ...

ermmmmmm 

mayday mayday 

jungkook.exe has STOPPED WORKING  

whoever this jungkook person was, sure was taking their time 

deciding to have some fun before your lesson, you begin to gently play with the water 

swish. swoosh , the water goes 

soon you’d be well on your way to becoming the next michael phelps 

hehe 

maybe with time you’d even be able to a somersault in the water like your friend always—

“y/n?” a voice from behind says your name

ah finally 

taking in a deep breath, you turn your attention to the so called “best swimming instructor” 

OH.

MY .

GOD. 

WHAT ?????? 

this man looked like he came straight out of GQ magazine !!!! 

this HAD to be some mistake , there was just no way ... 

your cheeks feel as if they were burning up 

probably because they quite literally were 

there was no way you’d be able to come here every saturday for the next month, not without fawning for this dude every single minute 

“u-um” 

of course you were a stuttering mess

of FuCkiNg course 

“that’s me” 

cue the awkward smile 

:) 

“be professional” jungkook tells himself

at the end of the day, you were his student 

any crush on you would just have to wait until of course ... you were no longer his student 

for now the only goal was : teach you how to swim 

the next one down the list being : to take you out on a date ! 

he offers you a handshake 

wow he had a strong grip 

“i’m jungkook, i’ll be your swimming instructor for the next month” 

he flashes you his all too famous smile

there was just no way this man was real

just nO wAy 

“um..” 

crap, you were still holding his hand! 

idiot, idiot, idiot ! 

“sorry” you awkwardly laugh 

ha ha ha 

so funny 

:/ 

god did you just want to hide to disappear 

“it’s fine” he laughs 

even his laugh was attractive :( 

ugh 

“so y/n, before we begin with anything, i think it’s important to review about what kind of things you already know and what you don’t” 

oh right ... 

for a moment you had COMPLETELY forgotten you were here for swimming lessons 

how embarrassing 

“oh um..” 

um, um , um. 

IS THAT ALL YOU KNEW HOW TO SAY???? 

“so like floating, holding your breath underwater, pushing, gliding, arm movement, that kind of stuff,” he explains 

you knew a cool trick to make it look like you were water bending :D 

of course you weren’t going to admit that here 

silently you nod your head no 

he gives you a reassuring smile, sensing your timidness 

“that’s fine, only more for us—” he corrects himself, “for you to learn,” he laughs 

hey you weren’t complaining 

;) 

“so i personally always like to start off with teaching my students how to float. as long as we get that down then you’ll have no problem learning the rest” 

gosh his smile was so infectious 

shaking your head, you reminded yourself that this was your teacher 

+ you paid 300 bucks for these classes, so you couldn’t afford to be giving him the googly eyes all day 

you were so cute :( 

jungkook couldn’t help but find you so endearing 

the color of your swimming goggles even matched your swim suit :(( 

so cute ! 

“okay so the first thing i want you to practice is going underwater for a couple of seconds, just so you get used it,” he instructs, “i’ll demonstrate” 

taking in a deep breath, he goes down under 

1...2...3 

he’s back up 

pausing for about another three seconds, he takes in another deep breath of air before going back under 

1...2....3...4....5

he repeats the same thing over and over, until the max count becomes 20. 

“use my finger as your reference of when to go up, but come up for air whenever you feel like you need to. it’s important to go at your own pace, so don’t feel pressured to get it the first try” 

no pressure at all 

okay 

“you ready?” 

you nod your head 

“okay, deep breath in”

you sink your head underwater, mentally counting the three seconds before going back up 

“good job,” he gives you a high five, and you almost feel like a schoolgirl, “now let’s try to five seconds” 

woo!!! 5 seconds here you come !! 

taking in a deep breath you go down under again 

1....2.....3....4...5

easy peasy ... LEMON SQUEEZY 

“okay now to ten” 

1.....2......3......4.....5......6....7

umm

now why were these seconds going by slow all of a sudden? 

sucking it up you manage to make it to 10, but not without being out of breath 

“you okay?” he’s quick to ask 

yup, totally fine ! 

you definitely didn’t see the gates of heaven for a quick moment :D 

nodding your head, you enthusiastically say, “let’s go for 15″ 

he smiles at your enthusiasm

ahh so cute 

“1....2.....3......4......5.......6......7......8......9.....10.....11.....12....13...

nope nope nope

you were not going to make it to 15 

immediately you make your way back to the surface, trying to catch your breath 

“hey you did amazing,” he immediately reassures you, “remember as long your going your own pace then you’re doing just fine” 

<3 

well doesn’t that make you feel better 

you wonder if he’s this kind to all his students 

besides the most obvious reason, there was no question as to why he was the “most popular” instructor 

and to think you had been complaining earlier !! 

and soon you’re back underwater, going at your own pace until finallyyyy you’re able to make the 20 second count 

“nice !!” he genuinely celebrates with you, making you feel completely proud for yourself 

“okay now that we have that done, we can move onto learning how to float facing both front and back” 

ohhhhh

he was just thinking ahead 

cool :o 

“so what i want you do is first relax,” he laughs, gently pushing your stiff shoulders down 

as if your blush couldn’t get any deeper 

“now my personal belief is that all humans can naturally float, just that for others, it takes a bit of a push to get them at that state,” he begins to explain 

others meaning people like um you 

“the key to floating is to relax” 

oh you’ve heard that before

many MANY times and each time you’ve tried to so called “relax” you just end up sinking 

“the moment you fight or stress for even a tiny bit, you will sink. now i know what you’re thinking, ive heard that before” 

damn 

he was good 

“but sadly it’s true, until you learn to relax then you’ll be able to swim” 

you sigh 

this was where it became hard 

you were the queen of stress 

you and stress went hand in hand almost like a married couple 

it was just that deep water was scary !! very very scary !! 

the amount of horror stories you’d seen on tiktok was enough for you to know, ocean = scary 

“so here’s what i need you to do, i need you to place your arms on top of the water like as if you’re going to fly” 

you follow his commands 

he separates your arms, which had been too close together, giving them a small rub 

“remember you need to relax y/n,” he chuckles, feeling the tension in your arms

“relax, i need to relax,” you repeat 

“okay now right now when i tell you, you’re gonna take a deep breath in and look down, from there you’re gonna let you body move forward. so remember you’re not gonna jump, you’re just gonna let your body glide forward and float. almost as if you’re flying to me,” he explains 

mm it was easier said than done  

“you ready?” 

“okay deep breath in” 

you inhale a deep breath in 

“look down” 

you do that as well 

“and let go” 

slowly your body begins to rise on its own 

oh my god !!!!! 

you were about to float!!!!! 

the day has come !!!

no more staying at 5 feet and under 

you were ready to hang with the big kids :D 

but as quick as the momentum came, the faster it left because soon you felt yourself sinking, the breathing exercise jungkook had made you do now coming in handy 

no!!!! 

you almost had it :( 

it was right in your grasp, only to have it snatched away 

not wanting to offend you, jungkook keeps his giggles to himself 

“hey at least you almost had it,” he comforts you, “let’s just try again” 

you sigh, now letting your doubts creep in 

because of this, this time your body almost immediately sank this time

he frowns 

you were losing confidence :/ 

“come on i’ll help you” 

grabbing your hands, he signals for you to follow his breathing pattern

“deep breath in” 

“deep breath out” 

god, was his voice soothing 

“i need you to relax y/n, let everything go” 

a soft feeling of relaxation washes over you, similar to that feeling you’d get when you were on the verge of sleeping

“i’m gonna let you go at the count of three, and then you’re going to float, okay?” 

silently you nod, knowing that speaking would only cause you to tense up again 

“1...2....” 

he lets go, and soon you’re floating, just like he said you would 

you hold your breathe for a good while before standing back up, a huge smile on your face 

“holy shit! i did it!!” 

he gives you high five with both of his hands, for a second holding them before letting go 

“now let’s try floating on your back” 

he notices that there’s now a fire in your eyes that wasn’t there before

clearly you were now more determined to learn, excited too

preparing yourself to float once more, you realize you were missing something.... 

“jungkook...” 

he tilts his head, confused by the faint blush on your cheeks 

“do you think you can um—” 

now it was his turn to blush 

“o-oh yeah” 

what was his problem??? 

you were a student asking for help 

that was all ...

point blank. 

he helps you get on your back, his hand placed under your back as a way to keep you up 

“1....2....” 

you float easily again!! 

“nice!!” he smiles 

summer, here you come !! 

“okay so we’re gonna keep practicing that for the remaining time that we have and next week i’ll start teaching you about stroke techniques and which ones are easiest to do” 

nodding your head, you practice your floating by the end of the hour  having it practically mastered 

the two of you get out of the pool, now drying off 

“you’re a really fast learner y/n,” he compliments you 

hehe 

you mean, you didn’t wanna brag butttt 

you were a fast learner indeed 

“thank you,” you say in return, “but that’s only because you’re a great teacher” 

woah 

did you really say that :o 

aren’t you feeling a little bold today y/n  

his blush returns for the second time today

well technically you weren’t in class anymore ... 

a little flirting wouldn’t hurt right? 

if only he knew what to say .... 

hmmmm 

“well at least you won't ever drown!” 

HUH???????

jungkook, you idiot !!!!! 

someone needed to smack him straight in the face for that ! 

at least you won’t drown????

no fucking shit 

well there goes his chances with you now going down the drain 

but to his surprise, you laugh 

“you’re right, i won’t,” you say in return, “well i’ll see you next weekend jungkook” 

you flash him a smile, and he was certain he felt butterflies in his stomach 

walking into the girl’s locker room, you let out a sigh of relief

wheeeeew ! 

faking confidence was hard ! 

very VERY hard 

“so today you’re going to learn how to stroke so you can officially be called someone who knows how to swim, next week you’ll learn to tread water and continue perfecting your swimming, and then the final week i’ll teach you some fun extra things” 

“sounds good,” you say, definitely excited to learn more. 

“okay so now that you know how to float, right now when you float facing downward, you’re going to pull against the current with your arms, alternating each one. now the tricky part is that while you do that, you also have to paddle your legs a little and come up for air when you need to, and when you’re back in the water you should slowly be exhaling bubbles of air rather than holding your breath” 

well that sounded hard :/ 

“let me give you a demonstration,” jungkook says

he’s quick to float facing downward, showing you the maneuver he wanted you to learn while coming up for air every five seconds

thought it was a little childish, he somehow still looked good doing it 

he truly was blessed with the looks of a god 

he comes out the water

“okay now your turn” 

you nod your head, that determined look you had on your face last week now returning 

following his example, you begin your attempt at paddling and stroking your arms at the same time

SPLASH! SPLASH! SPLASH! 

immediately you begin to panic and water begins to splash everywhere, including on jungkook 

noticing your panicked state, jungkook is quick to grab you and place you back on your feet 

“hey hey, i got you,” he comforts you, not wanting you to feel discouraged 

you sigh 

:/ 

well that was embarrassing 

“remember y/n you have to learn to coordinate everything, so think of it this way. your legs have to always be paddling, it’s the arm and coming up for air that switch roles. when you come up for air, it’s only your legs paddling, while when you’re head is back underwater it’s both your legs and arms paddling. once you get that pattern, the bubbling will come naturally” 

you make an ohhhhh face

you could do that ! 

“remember what i told you last weekend y/n, you need to relax and be comfortable so you can build confidence. there’s no need to panic because i’m here,” he smiles at you 

gosh this just wasn't fair >:( 

cute and charming ???? 

this boy really had it all 

not wanting to disappoint, you try one more time, failing once again 

now you were frustrated :/ 

“damn it,” you mumble to yourself, a sadness to your voice

jungkook feels his heart swell 

he didn’t like seeing you sad :( 

but doggy paddling was the most basic technique he could teach you so he couldn’t really cheer you up by offering a different technique 

you needed to learn to doggy paddle before you could move on to the more bigger strokes

damn it ://  

“hey don’t feel bad about not getting right away,” he gives you a small smile, “i remember when i first started learning it took me forever to even learn how float, so the fact that you’re already at this point is enough of an accomplishment” 

well that makes you feel little better ... 

“but you were probably a kid, im ...” 

old , is what you want to say 

figuring what you were gonna say, he only laughs 

“who said i was a kid? i was probably like 19″ 

whaaaaaattttt! 

assuming he was your age (which he was), you do the quick maths in your head 

that was like .... 4 years ago ! 

how the hell did he get so good in such little time???? enough to be teaching courses ??? 

“not knowing how to swim is nothing to be embarrassed about y/n, if anything it takes a lot of courage to even sign up for a class so don’t beat yourself up too much for not getting it right away” 

he ruffles your wet hair, a small affectionate gesture 

you didn’t know how it was possible but you were falling for this man and QUICKLY at that 

he was just so ??$%@^! 

UGHHHH

“so let’s try one more time, and if you still can’t get it then we’ll push it to next week, a free extra lesson on me” 

eeeeek 

though the temptation to purposely fails was very intriguing indeed, you still had to try for the sake of it 

if you got it, you got it, and if you didn't well .... 

an extra week with jungkook it was :D 

“you ready?” 

you nod your head 

“1...2...” 

you float and begin to paddle, this time actually getting the hang of it !!!

you hear jungkook’s muffled voice from above the surface, “there you go!!” 

holy shit ! 

you officially knew how to swim !!! 

at least enough to save your own life if push came to shove 

once you were out of breath, you stand back up, a grin on both of your faces 

for jungkook it was hard not to tackle you in excitement so instead he settled for a very enthusiastic high five 

“you did it!” he cheers 

“ahhh!” you giggle like a child 

“from here on out, the rest is a piece of cake!” 

yay yay yay !!! 

“now let’s start working on deeper strokes, maybe we’ll even have time to throw in backstrokes!”

:////

noticing your changed expression, he awkwardly laughs while scratching his neck 

“or maybe not” 

this week was the final week of swimming lesson with jungkook

:(( 

last week’s lesson of treading water and perfecting your swim seemed to had gone by in literally the blink of an eye ! 

and so today was possible the last time you’d see jungkook unless you managed to grow the balls and ask him out once that clock hit 4, once you were no longer his “student"

by now you were 100% sure you liked the dude... like a lot 

and he was definitely someone you wanted to get to know outside of this pool 

you just weren’t sure if he liked you the same way 

you mean yeah there were definitely times that had you raising an eyebrow here and there, but you always excused it as him simply being a kind hearted person by nature 

because clearly his five star rating on the company’s website had to come from somewhere 

not that you checked or anything....

who were you kidding 

yes you did

your favorite review was the one that went..

“wow!! this dude is amazing !! came here for beginner lessons and even i found myself fawning for the dude , and i don’t even play for that side of the team !! not only were his lessons thorough, but he’s a very charming person ! 10/10 recommend!” 

and so you were stuck 

did he liked you or was he just treating you like he treated everyone?? 

“ahh y/n,” jungkook’s voice suddenly brings you back to reality 

“today’s our final lesson!” he announces, not sounding too sad

in fact he sounded excited  

damn :/ 

he playfully jumps into the pool, today being his so called “fun day” 

“so since today’s your last lesson i thought i could teach you how to do a.....” 

he pauses for dramatic purposes 

“SOmERSAuLT!!”

immediately your eyes light up 

ahhhhhHHHH!!!! 

you always wanted to learn how to do a somersault in water, remembering the number of times you’d look at your friend in jealousy whenever she did one 

“you ready??” 

eagerly you nod your head yes

“okay so the steps to doing a summersault is first of course, you need to take a deep breath” 

okayyyy 

“from there you tuck your chin to your chest, next you do the moment of the somersault by swinging your chest forward and gently kicking out your legs, so basically forming a ball and then kicking out.  naturally, if you have enough momentum, you’ll spin, but if you don’t just use your arms to complete it” 

“think you can give me a demonstration?” you innocently ask 

he winks at you, “of course i can” 

taking in a deep breath, he follows his own instructions, and you watch he perfectly executes his somersault 

“woahhh, that was so cool!” you say, even now finding the trick to be amazing 

“now i dont expect you to get it right away, so right now that you try i’m going tog hide you thought the movement so you get the gist of it” 

sounds fair enough 

you weren’t trying to drown on your last day either 

“okay, you ready?” 

“yes” 

“let’s get it!” 

taking a deep breath in, you feel jungkook’s hand get placed on your back, ready to push you so you could do the somersault 

“1...2...” 

and slowly you feel yourself spin with the help of jungkook, a smile already forming on your face 

“ahhh!” you smile big and wide, causing Jungkook to smile along with you 

“you think you’re ready to try it on your own???” 

“yes sir” 

“okay 1....2....” 

mustering up as much as force you possible could, you push yourself into ball and successfully do the somersault 

YUPPPPP 

WHOSE DOING IT LIKE YOU???!$%@$!

feeling an immediate rush of adrenaline, you begin to splash water all over once you come back up for air, declaring an all out water fight with jungkook 

soon the two of you are chasing one another, you now using your new swimming abilities to get away 

hehe 

you’re a swimmer 

:D 

the sound of jungkook’s infectious laughter fill the air and soon you feel him grab your waist at an attempt to stop you 

“gotcha” he says, and he turns you around to face him 

slowly each other’s heavy breathing becomes relaxed, and it’s as if you’ve felt a shift occur in what you considered your new “friendship” 

“so....” he awkwardly says, hands still wrapped around your waist 

his was was RED

like cherry tomatoes red 

this only makes you giggle 

if you had doubts before, you DEFINITELY didn’t have em anymore 

he liked you :)))) 

and you liked him :)))) 

and in ten minutes you were officially no longer his student so......

“there’s this new restaurant that opened near my place....” you say 

immediately his eyes light up 

“cancun eats?” 

you nod your head and he gives you a toothy grin 

“i was wondering if you’d want to go out some time...” you muster up the courage to ask him out 

%^@%!@&!@^&@%! = jungkook’s brain 

holy crap !!! 

you liked him!!! 

he wasn’t just delusional !!! 

“hello?? jungkook??” you laugh, waving a hand in front of his face for jungkook.exe had truly stopped working this time 

nodding his head yes like a child,  the two of you being to lean closer to another, the clear goal in mind being each other’s lips

because honestly you’d come this far now, might as well give him a .... 

“wait!” he suddenly interrupts  he glances at the digital clock on the wall, remembering your final lesson officially ends at 4

because no way in hell was he going to get fired for kissing a student on the clock 

3:59 

.....

4:00 

“okay now,” he smiles, and you only roll your eyes, happy to have taken up on those swimming lessons. 

a/n : i was gonna make this longer but this was always meant to be a small little head canon so :))) pls give this a like, comment, or a reblog if you enjoyed it !! (if u can of course) and my ask box is always open for whatever !! :)) see yall next time 💞

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV Write Entry #1: Delayed Gratification

Prompt: foster || Master Post || On AO3

IT BEGINS.

The Jewels and Java cafe is the brilliant brainchild of my friend @catpella and was used with permission. :3

--

“Again, I am so sorry,” Synnove hissed, mortified, as they walked down one of the many hallways of the Arcanists’ Guild.

“It’s perfectly all right, my love,” said Aymeric fondly, squeezing her hand. “If we miss the ferry, we can simply teleport.”

His lady sighed heavily and muttered, “But I like the ferry ride…”

He laughed and raised her hand to kiss her knuckles, and satisfaction purred in his chest at the way Synnove’s golden cheeks rosed with pleasure. Galette, in her usual position draped around her mama’s neck, didn’t bat an eye. Ivar, behind them, made a disgusted noise, followed soon after by Tyr’s annoyed elder brother huff; he ignored them, well used to Synnove’s sons’ idiosyncrasies.

It was not the first time one of their getaways had been temporarily delayed by a work-related emergency; their friends and colleagues were normally keen on ensuring the pair of them got to take vacations, but sometimes matters arose that absolutely could not be handled by anyone else. This one, thankfully, had occurred while they were still in the city and easy to reach. Very easy; they’d been merely around in the corner from Mealvann’s Gate in the Jewel and Java café, enjoying sweet treats before they planned to wander over to the ferry quay for the journey to Bloodshore and the cabin, when Thubyrgeim’s emerald carbuncle, Din, scurried in with a note from the Guildmistress.

“Oh, she’s playing dirty,” Synnove had muttered as she read the note. Din had twitched an ear in her direction, but he had clearly been in the midst of gossiping with Galette and Tyr, their noses and ears and tails moving in the way of creatures who didn’t need sound to communicate.

(Aymeric had, not for the first time, suspected that Synnove’s carbuncles’ aetheric harmonic matching capabilities were nowhere near as common as his lady implied they were. Certainly, he’d never ‘heard’ any other carbuncles speak, but he also knew Synnove’s quintet limited their direct communication to Synnove’s immediate social circle, and it would not be out of the realm of possibility that other carbuncles had similar preferences…)

Aymeric had peered over his shoulder, setting down his fork with its piece of rolanberry shortcake on his plate, and shook his head in amused exasperation at the sight of the Guildmistress’s shorthand, which was as atrocious as Synnove’s. “What seems to be the problem?”

“One of the fourth-years needs final approval for her thesis project’s spell changes,” she had said, refolding the paper, then pinching and dragging her nails along the crease to sharpen it. A chip of her bronze nail lacquer ended up left behind. “Yamomo—” the chair of the aetherophysics department, he had recognized the name immediately, “—had to ‘port out to the Range. It’s either an unscheduled detonation or one of the Squadrons fired on a part of the island they’re not supposed to, Thubyr’s writing got a bit sloppy there.”

A bit sloppy?

Pointedly ignoring his look, his lady had continued, “Solkthota’s presenting her thesis project at the next conference, and guess where that is?” Her voice had turned as dry as the Sagolii.

Aymeric had giggled even as he had fished Roksana out of her bowl of melting ice cream and absently began cleaning her face with a napkin as the white carbunclet had purred. “Does it start with ‘Radz’ and end with ‘Han,’ by chance?” he said.

“Oh, you’re good,” Synnove had said with a rueful laugh, and waved down one of the café’s waitresses to get their desserts packed to go.

Now, they approached one of the warded workrooms in the Guild’s north wing. As they did, Synnove carefully smoothed out her expression from huffy and annoyed to professional interest. For all that she did want to be vacation right now, enjoying the lazy trip around the southern coast of La Noscea to sightsee or nap or cuddle, she would never take out that frustration on one of her students.

She dropped his hand—reluctantly, though she quickly skimmed her thumb over his knuckles first—and opened the door to the workroom, stepping inside, with Aymeric following just at her heels.

The workroom was large and well-lit, the early afternoon sun streaming in through the many windows. The part they immediately walked into was a small observation area, with a setup of desks similar to a small amphitheater leading down to the main floor; this must be one of the practical demonstration workrooms, then. Two students were off to the side, a dark-skinned Highlander lad and a tiny grey elezen girl who had yet to hit her growth spurt and could have been anywhere between sixteen and twenty-one summers old. At the front of the workroom, pacing nervously, was a gangly Sea Wolf young woman, skin the color of storm clouds and hair such a shocking shade of daffodil yellow he would have thought it was dye if her eyebrows hadn’t been the same color.

All three students’ head whipped up and around when Synnove entered, and Aymeric saw the two sitting ones’ jaws drop as he took a seat at one of the other desks, Ivar and Tyr jumping into seats next to him as the twins tumbled down his arms to the desktop. The presumed Solkthota paled and stammered out, “Professor Greywolfe! You’re supposed to be on vacation—”

Synnove waved a hand and closed the short door on the partition between the observation area and the presentation area. (Briefly, as the latch on the door clicked into place, he felt the faint snap of a ward activating.) “Hadn’t left yet, Solk, and an emergency means Professor Yamo has to put the fear of the Twelve into someone,” she said absently. Her voice had gone from her usual faintly Ala Mhigan and Lominsan accented lilt into the crisp tones of a Gate arcanist on duty. “Remind me of what your thesis was covering? Professor Yamo hasn’t given me a copy yet.”

The young Sea Wolf took a deep breath and launched into a technical diatribe that almost immediately had Aymeric’s eyes glazing over. He recognized a few words and phrases—Shotamian manifold, harmonic oscillation—and knew just enough from listening to Synnove’s explanations over the years that this project didn’t seem to be carbuncle focused, but otherwise it was all Allagan to him. Instead, he made sure Amandina and Roksana hadn’t taken a page out of Galette’s playbook and hadn’t gotten into the bag of treats sitting beneath the desk at his feet, and leaned back in his seat to observe. Faintly, he could hear the other two students murmuring to one another, but about what, he was too far away to tell.

(They weren’t looking at him as they did, at least, so if he was the subject of their conversation, they at least had better manners about it than most Ishgardian nobles.)

Solkthota finished quickly, nerves clear as day on her face, and Synnove nodded, reaching up to pet Galette’s tails. “All right, no time like the present to test this.” She gestured towards one of the person-shaped targets at the end of the room. “Let’s see what this modified Ruin can do.”

The student took another breath as she unhooked her grimoire from her belt, opening it and quickly turning pages to the correct one. Solkthota removed her channeling stylus from the strap on the grimoire’s back and held it up in the air, the tip pointed towards the target, and began to cast.

The bolt of power had barely left the stylus before Synnove was roaring “DOWN!” and tackling the Sea Wolf to the floor. Aymeric grabbed the twins just as the word began to leave Synnove’s lips, and was on the floor beneath the heavy ironwood desk, the shrieking carbunclets tucked close to his chest, just as the echo of it was overtaken by the roar of an explosion. Tyr was on top of him and his little sisters as a bright light blinded him, blocking it out, but having an enormous topaz carbuncle atop him did nothing to muffle the sound or the feel of the room trying to shake apart.

The silence in the aftermath was nearly as deafening as the explosion had been.

Tyr rolled off his head, shoving past Ivar, who hung from the desk, chittering in excitement because big boom and, of course, he had watched. Aymeric crawled out after Tyr, and as he stood, the girls immediately pulled themselves up onto his shoulders and tucked into his neck, shivering. He absently stroked first Roksana, then Amandina, and hurried to the other end of the observation area to where the other students had been. As he walked, he noted that the ward on the partition was flickering oddly, like cracked glass, but the spell still held—barely.

The Highlander boy had covered his elezen classmate’s head with his torso, and she was shoving at him now, her voice muffled by his bulk, saying, “Tyon, gerroff, you’re heavy!”

Aymeric bent over to help Tyon keep his balance as he pushed himself up and crawled out from the desk. “Are you all right, you two?” he said.

Tyon rubbed at one ear, and accepted his proffered hand to get to his feet. “Ears’re ringing,” he said while also blinking rapidly. His tiny classmate popped up next to him, patting her dark blue hair back into place and scowling faintly.

Synnove, meanwhile, was lowering her arm; the right one, upon which she wore the ring denoting her as a master arcanist. The glimmer of a shield fell away as she did, and then she was standing upright and helping Solkthota to her feet. Galette’s ears were pinned back and her nose was twitching, but otherwise she seemed utterly unperturbed.

“I am so, so sorry,” the Sea Wolf was saying, her whole body shaking and her eyes wide with mixed shock and horror. “I know I did the math right, I know I did—”

“Honey, take a deep breath,” Synnove interrupted, hands on Solkthota’s shoulders and her voice firm as she looked up at the young woman. “In for seven, and hold, hold, hold, little more, and now out for seven. That’s it. And again…”

As Synnove calmed her student, Aymeric and the other two began righting chairs and wiping plaster dust from the tops of the desk. Tyr came over to headbutt Tyon’s thigh, and the Highlander gave his head a firm rub; as he did, an emerald carbuncle that appeared more vulpine than the standard manifested, yipped what was likely a hello, and then went to sit on the elezen girl’s foot. She immediately bent down and scooped the creature into her arms, tickling under its chin.

Soon enough, Solkthota’s breathing was under control, and Synnove gave her a grin. “There we are. Now, what’s the first rule of science?”

Solkthota’s answering grin was shy and watery. “It’s not science until you write it down.”

“Very good,” said Synnove, her green eyes glittering. “So let’s do that first. Next, we’re going to go through your arrays page by page; your working theory is sound, but the math fell through at some point.” She suddenly pointed towards the young elezen, without looking. “And no helping her, Atreanne!”

“Oh, come on, Professor G!” Atreanne said in a high, nasally whine. Her carbuncle added its own whine as emphasis. “I’m the best at it!”

“And Solkthota will learn better if you don’t feed her the answers,” Synnove said, her voice wry in the way of someone who had. “But you and Tyon are welcome to stay and observe, both of your physics work could do with some polishing.”

Tyon and Atreanne exchanged looks, wide-eyed, and then bolted for the partition.

“I’m glad now it wasn’t Professor Y today,” Aymeric heard Atreanne whisper to Tyon. “Professor G’s way more patient with screw-ups.”

“Professor G likes screw-ups,” Tyon whispered back. “They’re more fun, she says.”

“They are more fun, now hop to it, kids!”

Solkthota was dragging over the desk that had been pushed up against a wall, and Tyon and Atreanne grabbed chairs from the observation to bring over and sit with their classmate and teacher. Synnove, meanwhile, looked at Aymeric as she walked backwards towards the slate chalkboard.

“Can you get me some fresh chalk?” she said, a rueful grin on her face.

Aymeric laughed and gave her a sweeping bow, the twins peeping excitedly as they held on. He righted them as he straightened, and turned to head to where he knew one of the storage rooms were.

It was a good thing he had remembered to pack a few books to read.

[hongism]

as you wish - jaehyun smut

pairing: jaehyun x female reader

genre: ceo!jaehyun, assistant!reader, smut, absolute filth guys

word count: 3544

warnings: daddy kink, semi-public smut, choking, thigh riding, facefucking, deepthroating, throat bulging, oral sex: male receiving, oral: female receiving, sir kink, size kink, unprotecc sex, cum eating, cum swallowing, creampie, fingering, filth, absolute filth, fucking filth y'all, corruption kink, overuse of baby girl and princess, possessive!jaehyun, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, dom!jaehyun, sub!reader, teasing, breast play, nipple play, pussy slapping, overstimulation, praise, basically both have a pain kink, reader cries bc jaehyun's big dick is that good, this is not a proper boss assistant relationship like y'all no, but do i care? fuck that no I don't, yes this is kick it jaehyun, no don't come for me jfc this warning list is LONG

summary: maybe you and your boss don't have the most professional relationship, but he's so good at fucking you that you don't think twice about it.

a/n: ...don't ask. this is gratuitous smut and absolute filth and I have zero shame, so don't ask pls this is for @parksfilter​ @franklytae​ and myself. also thank you dearest fram for this sexy ass banner :3

…

...

“Sir? Your 4 o’clock appointment came by early.” You step into the dimly lit office to find your boss sitting behind his desk, as usual, eyes glued to his computer even as you speak. “Mr. Jung,” you speak a bit louder in hopes of catching his attention. Sure enough the man glances up at you, dark eyes finding yours as he looks at you over the rim of his glasses.

“Yes, Miss L/N?”

“Your 4 o’clock.”

“It’s 3:36, Miss L/N. Not 4 o’clock. You’re early. As is my client.”

“Well sir, Mr. Kim asked me to remind you that you were rather late to the last meeting.” You grin at your boss, teeth shining through the smile. His lips quirk into a small smile. “So, Jaehyun, who’s fault was that?”

“Yours actually, Y/N. Someone was taking her sweet time… taking care of business. Go tell Mr. Kim that I will see him at 4 o’clock and no sooner.” Jaehyun pushes his chair back from the desk, eyes still not leaving yours, and steps around the side of the wood. His fingers run along the surface. He barely traces it, a delicate touch that makes you think of less than holy things. “I meant now, Miss L/N. I only have 21 minutes to conduct certain business with you.”

“Of course, Mr. Jung. I’ll be back shortly.” You turn on your heel, spinning to face the door, and step out with haste. Jaehyun’s eyes follow you as you go, you can feel the heat of his gaze on your backside. The door clicks shut behind you though and blocks the feel of his eyes for the time being. “Mr. Kim!” You greet with a wide grin. Said man’s eyes flit up to yours as you smile down at the place where he awaits you.

“Is Jaehyun ready for me?”

“No, actually. He asked that we wait until 4 o’clock precisely. He has a bit of paperwork that needs to be concluded before your meeting if that’s alright?”

“I thought you were supposed to mention his previous–”

“I did, but as you know, I answer to my boss’s orders only. I’ll come back to bring you in at 4 o’clock, Mr. Kim.”

“Ah, I see, Miss. As you wish.” The man sitting before you nods his head once at you.

“Actually sir, it’s as Mr. Jung wishes, but I’ll pass on the message.”

Your heels click against the hard floor as you walk away from the businessman. A smile still plays at your lips because you know what’s waiting for you behind your boss’ door. You don’t bother knocking before stepping back into his office. One hand trails over the dark wood, slipping over the lock and twisting it to the right, then you turn to face Jaehyun.

“Miss L/N, what did my client say?” He asks from his place in front of his desk. The suit fits him too well, and you see that now that he’s standing before you in full glory like this.

“As you wish, Mr. Jung.” You walk towards the man, hand on your collar, and pop the top three buttons of your blouse open.

“Hmm, I quite like the sound of that, Miss L/N.” He reaches out to snatch you by the waist. “Wearing a red number under a white shirt is a bit risky, don’t you think?”

“Do you think so? Maybe you’ll have to punish me for it then… sir.” Jaehyun’s hand trails up from your waist, delicate touch brushing the valley between your breasts. Goosebumps rise across your skin as he touches you. He hums at the sight, lips quirking into a small smirk at the same time, then glances up to your face before speaking again.

“Something tells me you’d like to be punished though, princess.” You roll your eyes at the comment. Stopping your gaze on the wall over to your right, you check the clock.

“19 minutes, Jaehyun.”

“Careful with that mouth, princess, or I’ll just go ahead and cancel the meeting altogether.” Jaehyun leans forward to press his warm lips against the column of your neck.

“You wouldn’t,” you whisper before letting your head fall back under Jaehyun’s ministrations. He chuckles against your skin. It sends ripples of pleasure through you, and you are forced to bite back the moan threatening to climb out of your mouth.

“As you wish,” he mutters back before leaning away from you. Twisting, you try to pull away from the man, but he locks you in place with his thighs, squeezing you between them before you can step back. He turns to his phone and taps away at some buttons while keeping one hand firmly on your waist. “Mr. Kim! Yes, yes, it’s Jaehyun. I hate to do this so last minute, but we had some paperwork complications come up just now. Would we be able to push the meeting to 5 o’clock? Yes? Wonderful. Again, I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” The call ends a moment later, and Jaehyun returns to smirking at you.

“I cannot believe you,” you hiss out. Your boss merely laughs. One hand slips between your legs to push them apart. The tight material of your skirt stops him from continuing the motion. You have to smile at the almost annoyed gleam that crosses Jaehyun’s eyes as he realizes the obstruction; however, it doesn’t last long because he pushes the material up over your thighs and ass for better access. You sink down onto Jaehyun’s thick muscled thigh before you know it.

“I have a lot of paperwork to attend to since my assistant got snippy.” Jaehyun’s teeth drag across his lower lip. He rocks his thigh upward. Pressure hits your clit, bringing a sharp wave of pleasure over you, and you grab him by the shoulders to stabilize yourself. “Fuck yourself against my thigh, baby girl. I wanna see my good little girl get off on Daddy’s thigh.”

“F-Fuck–” you gasp as Jaehyun rocks against you, not giving you a chance to speak or breathe before he yanks you closer by the collar.

“That’s an order, baby girl.”

“Yes–yes sir.” You slowly drag your body forward, letting the feel of his muscled leg against your core wash over you. Jaehyun’s fingers work at the rest of the buttons on your blouse. He works them open deftly before reaching around your back to pop the clasp of your bra. You do him the favor of yanking both your blouse and bra off. They’re thrown somewhere behind you, but you don’t have time to glance back and check because Jaehyun’s lips are latching around one of your nipples without warning. You instinctively buck against him. “Fu-uck.” A small whine leaves your lips as Jaehyun’s tongue swirls around your sensitive bud. He gives a sharp suck to it. You watch the skin rise up under his lips, teeth sinking into your lower lip. His other hand finds its way to your other breast and massaging it with his large hand. He pulls off with a cocky grin to his lips.

“You sound so innocent and needy. No matter how many times I corrupt you, you still act all innocent.” Another whine slips out, Jaehyun’s long fingers toying with your nipples as he speaks. “Listen to yourself. I want to ruin you. Turn you into my own little slut.” Jaehyun pushes up, bringing you with him, and you yet again have to brace yourself on his shoulders.

“You haven’t ruined me yet, sir.” Lifting a hand to Jaehyun’s face, you trace his sharp jawline with your index finger. The light touch coaxes goosebumps out of his skin, ones that rise to meet your finger as you move along his features. “But I would quite like it if you did.” Your words come out like a purr. They have a visceral effect on Jaehyun, his whole body lurching forward and pushing your back to the edge of his desk roughly. The sensation sends ripples of pain through your body only for a moment before it passes and leaves you quivering in excitement underneath him.

“Turn around. Now.”

You don’t wait to be told twice and spin as quickly as you’re able to given Jaehyun’s close proximity to you. A hand comes down against your ass. The skin ripples under Jaehyun’s touch. Even with your underwear, you’re certain that his touch will leave a nice handprint across your skin. Besides the underwear doesn’t last long. Jaehyun yanks it down with one hand, the other finds your bare back and pushes you until your face presses against his desk. Something is digging into your stomach – probably his stapler or something of the like – and you try your best to wiggle it out of the way. Jaehyun must think you’re attempting to misbehave though because his hand comes down against your ass again. The sting is sharper this time now that you aren’t wearing any underwear, but you revel in it nonetheless.

“Da-addy, something’s hurting my side,” you call out to the man behind you.

“Oh? I should’ve cleaned the desk off beforehand. My apologies, baby girl.” The hand on your back snakes it’s way up to your head, latching onto your hair and yanking your body back. A wanton moan escapes at the sharp tug. Jaehyun ignores your whining in favor of sweeping his belongings to the side, leaving an open space for you to fall back against when he releases your hair. “I’ll make it up to you, princess, don’t worry.”

“I never do,” you giggle back. You can see his form out the corner of your eye. He must know that you can as well because he’s making a show out of taking his jacket off and rolling his sleeves up his forearms. You have to bite your lip to keep a moan from slipping out. Then, Jaehyun dips out of sight.

Cold fingers brush your slick folds, toying with the wetness pooled at your core. You gasp and lurch further forward on his desk, blindly grasping for some sort of support as he pushes two digits in without warning. The stretch is sudden and a bit uncomfortable at first, but soon he’s working you open like it’s common practice. The pads of his fingers toy around your sweet spot, teasing and prodding but never fully touching it, and you buck your hips back against his fingers in attempts to get him to hit that spot. It almost works, but Jaehyun crooks his fingers inside you at the same time. The suddenness of the action catches you off-guard. It also brings you to your first orgasm, walls clenching around his thick fingers, pulsing and tightening on him as you ride out your orgasm.

“Naughty naughty, little girl.” His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth. “Roll over, face up.” Your mind is a bit muddled and fuzzy already. Jaehyun smacks the flat of his hand against your wet pussy, and it brings a jolt through you, an encouragement to get moving and roll over faster. Apparently, it’s still not fast enough for Jaehyun because he yanks you forward by the legs until your cunt is right in front of his lips. You nearly clench your thighs around his head just at the sight of him between your legs like that, but you resist the temptation in favor of throwing your head back in pleasure. He drags the flat of his tongue against your sopping folds. It’s slow at first, almost teasing in the way he laps at your heat, but he seems to realize that the two of you are still on a time crunch. Next thing you know, his tongue is prodding at your entrance. He builds up a quick rhythm, no longer wasting time in fucking his tongue in and out of you, and you reach down to grab hold of his hair. Fingers intertwine with his dark locks, and he groans against your pussy. The vibrations go straight to your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you. It’s enough to send another orgasm through your body, and it’s like little jolts of electricity shoot through you, making you see stars.

“O-Oh fu-fuck Jaehyun, fuck fuck. Fuck, Jaehyun, ju-ust like that, please. Yes, yes, yes,” you ramble, already halfway to losing yourself in the pleasure despite barely getting started. Jaehyun chuckles against you, sucking at your sensitive clit as he pulls off you.

“It seems that someone forgot what my title is.” A hand slaps your cunt. The sound that resonates is a wet and disgusting one, one that has you writhing under Jaehyun’s touch and has him slapping your pussy again when you fail to respond. “Get it right, slut. You have two options. Say them both.”

“S-Sir!” You cry out when his palm hits your clit again. “Sir an-and Daddy.”

“Good girl.” Jaehyun coos and rewards you with a small kiss pressed to your clit. “Up. I wanna fuck your pretty little mouth.” You prop yourself up on your elbows, chest heaving as you look up at Jaehyun, who’s getting to his feet himself. The sight distracts you a moment. His hair is ruffled and unkempt thanks to your touch, tie off-kilter and loose, lips and chin glistening with your juices, and it’s such a breathtaking sight that you lose your train of thought. “I said up.” Jaehyun pulls you back to reality by tugging your body forward, fingers clenched around your hips and pulling you off the desk. You nearly fall face first into his crotch, nose actually bumping the bulge in his trousers. He’s nearly bursting out of his pants. You grin at the thought of the large present hiding behind the material and resituate yourself so that you’re more comfortable on your knees before him.

“Yes sir,” you murmur as your fingers work his buttons and zipper apart. One sharp tug to the band of his pants and underwear is enough to spring his cock loose. He’s quite blessed, to be frank – thick and long, such that you have to use two hands to cover his whole length.

“Don’t just stare at me, baby girl.‌ Get to work.” You do as told, moistening your lips, then take the head of his cock into your mouth. He hisses at the contact. Your eyes snap up to his face as he makes the sound and gauge his reaction. He looks pleased already, tongue toying with the corner of his mouth while watching you bop your head up and down along his member. You hum around him. “F-Fuck, baby girl, let me fuck your mouth. Let me fuck it, shit.” His hand works its way into your hair and tightens around it. He lets you pull off to catch your breath once, a thin line of saliva connecting your lips and his shaft, then he pushes it back into your mouth. It fills you up before you’re even halfway down his member.‌ He keeps pushing and pushing though, and you thank your lucky stars for the lack of a gag reflex because you feel his cock press its way into your throat.

Jaehyun hisses above you. You can’t look up at him, too focused on his member, but he keeps groaning and hissing so much that you have to glance up at his expression. His eyes aren’t locked on your mouth or his cock, rather he’s looking past both things. The hand in your hair shifts, a light touch tracing down your skin until it reaches your throat.

“Fuck, you’re so tiny that my big cock bulges in your little throat. That’s the hottest shit I’ve ever seen, baby girl. Look at you.” Jaehyun’s hand slips back up to your hair and latches on. He braces himself on it, thrusting slowly in and out of your mouth. He presses into your throat with each thrust. The corners of your eyes are moist with tears, and they’ll begin to fall before he cums, but you try to focus on breathing around his fat cock rather than the tears. “You take my dick so well, princess. You’re doing so well, fu-uck. Such a good little slut for Daddy, aren’t you?” You can neither nod nor hum in approval around him, his cock filling you up too much to do either. Jaehyun doesn’t seem to expect an answer though. He keeps fucking your mouth, pace speeding up more and more as time goes on, and breathing is becoming more and more of a struggle. Still, he’s close and hot cum spills down your throat a moment later, nearly choking you from the sheer quantity of it and the lack of air in your lungs. Bringing a hand up to his hip, you drum your fingers against his bare skin three times, a small signal that you need him to pause for you. He pulls out immediately. “Are you alright, love?” He asks as you gasp for breath. The hand in your hair reaches around to cup your chin, lifting your face to his. Jaehyun stoops down to be eye to eye with you. “Color?”

“G-Green,” you gasp out. A small smile spreads across your lips as you see the relief in Jaehyun’s eyes. He must still be concerned though because your tears are already falling. “Fuck me, sir. Fuck me please?”

“Absolutely, baby girl. How do you want me?”

“Fuck me from behind. Bend me over your desk?” You plead as Jaehyun drags his fingers over your tear stricken cheeks.

“Ask nicely first, baby girl.”

“Daddy please bend me over your desk and fu-uck me like the little slut I am,” you beg, writhing under him.

“There we go, slut.” Jaehyun pulls you up by the arms and drags you over to his desk. You whine as he roughly pushes you up against it, letting him manhandle you into the position he wants you in, and there’s a sick sort of pleasure in letting him move you around like you’re his toy. Your face meets the cold wood of his desk again, cheek pressed to the surface so that you can look back and see what Jaehyun is doing behind you. His member is already hardening again, thanks to some help from his messy jerks, and within a few moments, he’s pressing the head against your wet hole.

He starts with a slow push. Despite his preparations, your cunt is still extremely tight around him. He takes extra care in thrusting slowly into you until he’s buried all the way in you. You whine at the sensation of being completely filled up by Jaehyun, coupled with your sensitive state from already orgasming twice. He goes slow at first; shallow and dragged out thrusts until you both get used to the sensation. Then, his speed picks up, thick member dragging across your slick velvety walls. Moans tumble from your lips without ceasing. You can’t bother being quiet as the sensation of Jaehyun’s cock in your tight pussy is too good for you to think straight. He groans as your walls tighten around him, clenching in rhythm with his quick thrusts.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby girl. No mat–no matter how many times I fuck you, you’re always so tight. Is my cock the only one you take? Are you my dirty little slut?”

“Yes, yes, Daddy, yes. I am sir, I’m yours. Only yours. Fuuuck I’m all yours.” Jaehyun’s thrusts speed up as you speak those words.

“That’s right, baby girl. All mine.” He’s already starting to falter with the rhythm of his thrusts, and with the way his cock is curving against your g spot, you know that you’re going to hit another high any second now. “Cum for me, baby girl. Cum around Daddy’s cock, yea?” You release a whine. Jaehyun gives a particularly harsh thrust, and it’s enough to send you over the brink and into another wave of orgasming. Your sight all but goes white from the sensation, stars in the corners of your vision. Jaehyun follows close behind.‌ Your walls tightening and pulsating around his member brings him to another orgasm himself. Hot seed pushes into you, filling you up, and you moan at the warmth in you. Jaehyun pants above you. Sweat on his brow, white shirt clinging to his body and showing the tan skin underneath, he cages you in with his arms.

“Damn,” you exhale as the orgasm passes.

“Damn is right.” Jaehyun pulls his softening member out of you. The absence of his cock immediately makes you feel cold, especially as you feel his cum sliding out of your pussy as well. “You did so well, baby girl. So so well.”

“Thank you, sir,” you mumble, too spent to say anything else.

“Now I hate to break it to you, but there’s a 5 o’clock appointment I need you to go fetch for me.”

“Oh fuck off!”‌ You call out, huffing as Jaehyun’s hands run over the curve of your ass. He chuckles to himself. “You can go get him yourself and explain why you’re late.”

“That’s for my assistant to do.”

“Your assistant seems to do a lot of things for you,” you counter.

“She’s quite good at her job, I must say. Now, let’s get you cleaned up and dressed properly again?”

“As you wish, Mr. Jung.”

...

a/n: ...i have no words tbh buuuuut i hope you guys do!!! please let me know what you think and share your feedback with me!

all these works are copyright 2020 calypso, jungtaeyoongles, all rights reserved.

[musette22]

Burning For You

Title: Burning For You Pairing: Chris Evans x Sebastian Stan (Evanstan) Rating: Teen and up Word count: 3.1k A/N: Written for Evanstan Week day 6, a late fill for the Alternate Universe prompt. This silly piece of fluff is entirely inspired by the wonder that is the Mountain Lodge candle from the Yankee Candle Company. Yes, the one that inspired this iconic Tumblr post. The one that smells like Chris Evans. 

I was lucky enough to receive one as a gift from the wonderful @howdoyousleep3 and my life hasn't been the same since I smelled it for the first time. Thank you for introducing me to such delights baby K, ilyyy 💖 Also BIG thank you to the @evanstanweek​ team and to my beautiful beta @rainbowsandcoconut who came up with the outline for this fic when I told her my idea! Love you, boo 😘

Summary: Evanstan AU. Sebastian gets a little carried away when raving about the Mountain Lodge candle to a friend. It leads to an unexpected, fragrant encounter.

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“Listen, D. You’ve gotta smell this candle.” Sebastian leans in closer, nearly knocking over his - third - glass of red. “You know I’m not usually a scented candle kinda guy, but this one…” He closes his eyes and tips back his head, an expression of pure bliss on his face. “Incredible. Glorious. Magnificent.”

“You look like you’re about to pull a Meg Ryan in When Harry met Sally over there, Seb.”

Sebastian straightens, giving Deirdre a meaningful look across the table at the low-key SoHo bar they’re having drinks at. “You kid, but I’m this close. It’s that good, not even exaggerating.”

“Sure you’re not,” Deirdre huffs, lifting her glass and taking a sizeable gulp of her Cosmopolitan.

“Fine, don’t believe me,” Sebastian shrugs. “You know, I pity you for not having experienced the delights of the Mountain Lodge candle, really. If you knew what it smelled like, you’d be singing its praises too, believe me.”

Deirdre rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Fine, I’ll bite. What does it smell like, Sebastian, pray tell.”

Sebastian sits up eagerly. “It smells…” he starts, “like an evening in that lodge in the Green Mountains we rented with the others a couple of years ago. Remember that? How it felt to relax by the fire after a long day of hiking, the scent of cedarwood and toasted marshmallows in the air?”

“Hmmm,” Deirdre agrees. “That was nice, yeah. But hardly worth busting a nut over, I’d say.”

Sebastian holds up a single finger. “I'm not done. Because this candle doesn’t just smell like the lodge, it also smells like the lumberjack living at the lodge.”

Deirdre frowns. “There was no lumberjack living at the –”

“The metaphorical lumberjack, D, god. Work with me here a little.”

“Oh right, okay. Gotcha.”

“It smells,” Sebastian continues, undeterred, “like soft, worn flannel. Like beard oil and a hint of clean sweat. It smells like a big, strong, gorgeous man who just got done hewing a ginormous tree with his massive axe and cutting it down into firewood, which he’s now using to light the very fireplace in front of which he’ll make sweet, sweet love to you, on the rug that’s actually the skin of a bear that attacked his rescue dog and which this man fought off and killed with his own bare hands.”

“Whooofffff,” Deirdre says, fanning herself with a napkin. “Fine, I’m starting to see the attraction.”

“It smells…” Sebastian goes on, pausing for dramatic effect before delivering his clincher, “like Chris Evans.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Deirdre groans loudly, sagging back in her chair. “Ughh, shoulda known this was coming. For chrissake, Sebastian, you literally cannot go even one night without bringing up Chris Evans, can you?”

“I totally can,” Sebastian protests, like the mature, professional, Times-employed literary critic he is. “But you don’t understand, D. This candle, it’s actually like they bottled the very essence of Chris Evans and then infused a candle with it. It’s life-changing.”

“Yeah, yeah, you have a permanent boner for Chris Evans, you wanna marry him and have his little bearded babies, tell me something I don’t know,” Deirdre sighs, draining the last of her drink and immediately starting to look around for the waiter to order a new one. Distantly, Sebastian notices the song playing in the background changing to The Smith’s ‘Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want'. Ah, if only.

“Listen to me,” Sebastian insists, unconsciously starting to speak louder, like he’s some small-town preacher trying to make his ignorant clergy see the light. “Deirdre, darling, you’re one of my oldest friends. I wouldn’t lie to you. I swear, when you smell this candle, you too will feel like you’re being engulfed in the embrace of the brilliant, spectacular, totally unique smokeshow that goes by the name of Chris Evans. It’s as if the man himself is wrapping those huge, muscled arms of his around you, crushing you to his wide chest as you tuck your face into the crook of his neck while his beard brushes your temple and you inhale his masculine scent of cologne, sex and clean, honest sweat, I swear to god – D, are you even listening?”

At some point during the last part of Sebastian’s homily, Deirdre’s eyes drifted to a point over his right shoulder and got stuck there.

“Did you just- zone out?” Sebastian asks indignantly, waving a hand in front of her face. She doesn’t even blink. “Hello? Earth to Deirdre.”

“Seb,” Deirdre says, still not looking at Sebastian.

“Oh, I see,” Sebastian barrels on. “Here I am, pouring my heart out, telling you I found a candle that smells exactly like the man of my dreams and you’re just… What are you doing, actually? Are you okay?”

At this point, Deirdre’s eyes have gone comically round, mouth hanging open just a little. “Sebastian,” she repeats, more urgently now – and just as he’s turning his head to find out what put that dumbfounded look on her face, someone nearby clears their throat.

Sebastian startles, looking up at the man who’s appeared next to their table.

“Hi,” the man says in a deep, rich voice.

A deep, rich voice that Sebastian knows all too well. A deep, rich voice that belongs to none other than Chris Evans, Hollywood heartthrob and actual smokeshow, himself.

Oh.

Sebastian gapes while Chris, dressed in dark wash jeans, a red flannel shirt and a brown shearling jacket, smiles at him patiently. He’s all soft-looking beard and strong nose and bulging biceps and long, lean legs, and Sebastian has died and gone to heaven.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Chris says, “but was just sitting a table over and I couldn’t help but overhear.”

And from one moment to the next, Sebastian crashes forcefully back to earth. His whole body goes cold, the blood draining from his face so quickly he feels dizzy with it.

Fuck. No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening. There is no way this is actually happening.

Except it is.

Sebastian had just been extremely, loudly and publicly horny about the very guy that’s standing next to him right now. The guy who is no doubt about to give Sebastian a piece of his mind at best, and a right hook to the jaw at worst. And honestly, he’d deserve it.

Since Sebastian wouldn’t even know where to begin apologizing, he says nothing. Just keeps staring at Chris in ever-growing horror, his pulse pounding in his ears so loudly it almost drowns out the miserable sound of Morrissey still pleading in the background.

Chris clears his throat. “So,” he says, bringing up a hand to rub the back of his neck. “This candle smells like me, huh?”

Sebastian groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Shit. Fuck. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean- Oh my god, please, please, please just forget you heard any of that.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

Puzzled, Sebastian chances a glance at Chris from between his fingers. He’s partly still covering his face out of embarrassment, and partly because Chris is so gorgeous in real life that Sebastian isn’t sure he could look at him directly without spontaneously combusting. It’s like staring at the fucking sun. He doesn’t seem too angry, though, thank god. In fact, there’s an amused twinkle in his blue eyes that makes Sebastian’s shoulders relax infinitesimally.

“Because it was incredibly inappropriate?” Sebastian suggests, honestly a bit confused about having to explain this to him.

“I don’t know,” Chris shrugs. “It sounded pretty great. Kinda want to smell it for myself now.”

For some unfathomable reason – probably because unexpectedly seeing his long-time celebrity crush in the flesh broke his brain, Sebastian blurts out, “Oh, I don’t have it with me. It’s back at my apartment.”

Slowly, Chris raises a single eyebrow. The look sends a shiver straight down Sebastian’s spine, from the crown of his head right down to his toes. “Is it now?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian replies breathlessly.

Chris’s gaze drops down to Sebastian’s brown leather boots before slowly travelling back up to his face. “I gotta say, normally someone would at least have to buy me dinner first, but…” He trails off, looking Sebastian straight in the eye before finishing, “I am really curious about this candle.”

“You are?” Sebastian says dumbly, and then “Ow!” when Deirdre delivers an impressively precise kick to his shin under the table. He turns to give her a betrayed look, but when he meets her eyes, with which she’s clearly trying very hard to communicate something to him, he finally catches on. “Oh!” Sebastian whips back around to Chris, staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. “I- you- you mean like…” He swallows hard. “You wanna come back to my place to, uh, smell the candle?”

Although Chris’s expression remains amused, there’s a hint of trepidation there as well. “Sure,” he says, smiling crookedly. “If… that’s something you’re up for?”

Sebastian’s mind races. The way he sees it, there are two possibilities. Either Chris Evans is actually standing here in the flesh, propositioning him, or Sebastian hit his head in the bathroom earlier and is actually just lying on the dirty tile floor, hallucinating as a result of severe head trauma. The second option seems by far the most likely, but then, his shin does hurt like a sonuvabitch.

Well, fuck.

Sebastian clears his throat and sits up straighter, running a hand through his longish hair. “I mean, yeah, that’s- wow. That. That would be okay with me, uh huh. You mean like, now?”

“If that works for you?”

Without thinking, Sebastian says, “Well, I’m here with Deirdre –” before letting out another sharp yelp as said Deirdre crushes his toes under her heel. “Jesus, D!”

Deirdre ignores him. “Ohhh, would you look at the time,” she exclaims, holding up her wrist which very much doesn’t have a watch on it. “Boy, it’s much later than I thought. I really oughta get going, early start tomorrow.” She yawns theatrically, then grabs her purse and throws down two twenties on the table. “It was lovely seeing you, Sebastian, Chris… Evans,” she adds, with a wooden nod in Chris’s direction. “Hope you two have a lovely evening, bye now!”

And she’s gone.

They both stare after her for a second, and then Chris chuckles – a low sound that reverberates pleasantly in Sebastian’s chest. “Well,” Chris says, turning back towards him. “It’s nice to meet you, Sebastian.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Chris.”

Sebastian stands, taking Chris’s hand, which is warm and big and ever so slightly calloused, and exactly like Sebastian always imagined. “Yeah, I know,” he says, because he’s cool like that. And then, in a show of bravura that surprises even himself, Sebastian holds Chris’s gaze, tilts his head a fraction, and says, “So uh, my place?”

Chris smiles, casually dropping a few bills on the table, more than enough to cover their drinks, before taking a step to the side to let Sebastian pass. “Lead the way,” he says, lightly resting his hand on the small of Sebastian’s back as they make their way towards the exit.

🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥

It’s only once they’re outside and the cold February night air manages to cool down Sebastian’s overheated brain somewhat that it occurs to him to ask if Chris wasn’t at the bar with anyone.

“I met a friend for drinks but he just left,” Chris explains. “I was just waiting for the bill when I overheard you guys.”

“And you’re sure you don’t have any other plans?” Sebastian asks, because he’s nothing if not a self-sabotaging idiot.

They’re still standing outside the bar, the golden light radiating from a nearby lamppost decorated with a cluster of luminous orbs making Chris look softer, somehow. Still a Hollywood heartthrob, but also charmingly human. Unfortunately, it does absolutely nothing to make Sebastian any less infatuated. If anything, it only endears Chris to him more, which he really didn’t think was possible.

“Not really, no,” Chris replies, amusement in his tone. “I was just gonna go back to my hotel and read for a bit.”

Sebastian perks up at the mention of his area of expertise. “Oh, yeah? What’re you reading?”

“I haven’t started it yet, but it’s this history of space travel? I read a great review of it in the Times the other day, so I thought I’d give it a go.” With a self-deprecating smile, Chris adds, “I’m kind of a space nerd.”

Sebastian blinks. “Not ‘To Infinity and Beyond’, by any chance?”

“That’s the one,” Chris confirms. “You know it?”

“I wrote the review.”

Chris’s eyes go round. “You did not.”

In lieu of replying, Sebastian digs up his wallet from his pocket, takes out his Times-employee card and holds it up for Chris’s inspection.

“Huh,” Chris says, studying the card. “What are the odds.” When his eyes turn back to Sebastian’s, he suddenly breaks out into a grin, wide and boyish. “Well, I guess that explains a thing or two.”

“How do you mean?” Sebastian frowns.

“I mean, that review was brilliantly written so you clearly have a way with words.” With a sly look, Chris goes on, “which explains your colorful descriptions of that candle earlier. The masculine scent of cologne, sex and clean, honest sweat was especially vivid.”

Sebastian groans, dragging a hand down over his face. “Jesus Christ, this is so embarrassing.”

Chris eyes shine with genuine mirth as he laughs, “Hey, come on, don’t worry about it.” He takes a step closer, ducking his head to try and catch Sebastian’s eyes, which are now firmly fixed on the pavement in an attempt to conjure up a hole to swallow him. “Call me a narcissist, but I didn’t exactly hate overhearing a gorgeous guy describing me as the man of his dreams.”

“Oh god,” Sebastian mutters, feeling himself turn a fetching shade of crimson. Trying to hide his blush, he turns around abruptly and nearly walks into the lamppost.

Chris, his savior, his knight in shining armor, manages to grab him by the back of his coat just in time to avoid the imminent collision. Sebastian still stumbles, but strong, capable arms wrapping securely around his waist keep him upright.

Carefully, Sebastian turns in Chris’s embrace so they’re facing each other, though he can’t quite make himself look Chris in the eye yet. “I’m guessing you caught on to this by now,” Sebastian tells the St Christopher pendant resting on Chris’s sternum, “but I’m kind of a disaster.”

Chris just hums, lifting a hand to tilt up Sebastian’s chin with his index finger, a small smile playing on his lips. “A beautiful one, though,” he whispers into the negligible space between them, before he closes that space and presses soft, full lips to Sebastian’s own.

Sebastian can’t suppress the small sound that escapes him when their lips meet, eyes closing on instinct as he lets himself sink into the kiss. Lets Chris take charge and coax open Sebastian’s mouth by running the tip of his tongue along the seam of his lips. Sebastian doesn’t think twice about letting him in. When their tongues touch, sweet and soft and languid, he trembles, pressing closer. Chris tastes a little like beer, and while Sebastian’s never been overly fond of beer, it takes approximately two seconds of being kissed by the hottest man on the planet for it to magically turn into Sebastian’s new favorite taste. Ever.

The kiss starts off slow; a little cautious maybe, as if Chris still isn’t entirely sure it’s welcomed. But then Sebastian’s hands find their way to Chris’s waist, fingers gripping tightly, and Chris slides a hand into Sebastian’s hair, angling his head gently to the left to deepen the kiss – and suddenly, Sebastian’s entire body feels like it’s on fire. He moans, relishing the feel of Chris's soft beard scratching at his clean-shaven cheeks, and way Chris takes control of the kiss, like something right out of every embarrassing fantasy he's ever had.

When Chris hums against his lips, as if he’s enjoying this just as much as Sebastian is, Sebastian’s knees go all weak and useless. It’s a good thing that Chris is there, tightening his left arm around his waist and pulling him more securely against the hard lines of his own body – which actually doesn’t do a thing to help Sebastian’s current knee situation. He whimpers, curling his hands into the fabric of Chris’s coat to anchor himself.

When Chris finally breaks the kiss, he doesn’t go far. His breathing has deepened, warm puffs of air caressing Sebastian’s tingling, wet lips. Sebastian exhales shakily. The way his head is spinning might be partially due to the wine, but it's definitely mostly because of Chris sweeping him off his feet with his smooth, movie star ways.

Needing a moment to gain his composure before he speaks, Sebastian buries his face in the crook of Chris’s neck, taking a deep, steadying breath –

Oh.

“I fucking knew it,” he groans.

Sebastian feels rather than hears Chris’s quiet laugh; feels the vibrations of it shake his broad chest under Sebastian’s palms. “Yeah? Do I really smell like your candle?”

“Better,” Sebastian mutters. On instinct, he presses his lips against Chris’s exposed neck, eliciting a shiver from him.

“You know,” Chris rumbles into Sebastian’s ear. “I still think I need to smell this magical thing for myself. Make sure you’re not just flattering me to get into my pants, y'know?”

Christ.

“Yeah,” Sebastian nods. “Definitely, good thinking. Empirical evidence is paramount. In fact, it’s totally possible I’m just mixing things up right now because my brain’s all” – he makes a poof motion with his hands, trusting Chris will get his drift – “so I think maybe I’ll need to do some comparative research.”

Chris tilts his head in though. “Hands-on research?”

“I think that’s best, yes,” Sebastian concurs.

“Right. Well, out of the two of us, you’re definitely the higher educated one, so I’m just gonna take your word for that.” After a beat, Chris adds, “as long as I get to test a theory or two of my own.”

“Oh?” Sebastian licks his lips. “Such as?”

The wicked glint in Chris’s eyes is the only warning he gets before Chris is sliding his hand back into Sebastian’s hair and giving it a firm, experimental tug.

“Ah,” Sebastian breathes, his eyelids fluttering, the blood rushing south so fast he feels dizzy – again.

Chris grins smugly. “Such as that.”

“Okay,” Sebastian croaks. “Yeah, that seems fair.” Wasting no more time, he reaches out to grab Chris’s free hand and starts to pull him along the pavement in the direction of his apartment.

Chris, laughing as he squeezes Sebastian’s hand, follows closely behind.  

🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥

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[anonbeadraws]

So I caved and with @spacespectres help made an avatarsona! With a big chunky statement to go with it!    (Trigger warnings for homophobia/transphobia, conversion therapy, death and parental abuse. Everyone gets just desserts though.)

‘I’m, actually not sure why I’m here. You can’t help me, my son is gone and the police arn't saying it but - I’m sorry, my ears are- It’s like- You know those alarms, the ones that are made to disperse kids at shopping centres, keep them from causing trouble- not that i think they work. you see more of them these days, scruffy and dirty, what their parents doing, i don’t-  Anyway, it’s like that noise, that high buzz. it’s meant to be that, as you get older, your brain tunes it out, adults aren’t meant to hear it anymore, just keep on shopping without hoodlums hanging about outside smoking and throwing shit at the elderly.   I don’t miss that, Ben’s smoking, i’ll say that. That’s awful to say, i bet you’re thinking, god how terrible, her child’s missing and she’s moaning about a few nicotine stains on the ceiling.

I know theres plenty that would call me a terrible mother anyway, i know the neighbours didn’t agree with my decision, the decision of a single mother, who struggled enough just to keep her child fed and watered and out of trouble, to then struggle to keep him from wearing my lipstick when i was out of the house-!   I have no problem with the gays. I want to say that, have that clear. I just know, what he was doing, that wasn’t my Ben, that wasn’t my son and, the Helping House was what he needed.   I’m his mum, i know what he needed, don’t care what his dad says. he wasn’t here, he wasn’t here to raise Ben, so he doesn’t-

The pamphlet was so nice, so professional and i checked it out online, all 5 stars, apart from the odd protester sticking his oar in, and it was- reassuring to know he’d be looked after, helped! Get what he needed. And he was fine when i left him there, with his old school backpack with all his bits in, the Helping staff there to welcome him. Reminded me a little of when he started primary school, he looked so small, all big eyes…  They promised it’d be a couple of weeks, maybe a month, and then he could come home, all better.

  I got to visit every weekend, which was nice! Sometimes brought him biscuits, can't beat home made, chatted a little. He still had that, that look from when i left, like he was little again, when i could tell he didn’t really want to leave me at the gates, he didn’t want to go in all alone, couldn’t we just go home instead mum?  But i was strong. For him. I resisted.

I think, it was when that look started to go, that little boy look, replaced with something, i don’t really want to think about even now, that i really noticed the other patients. One in particular. He looked different from the others. Props to the Helping House, they keep, kept the kids tidy. it was actually lovely, real treat to see Ben all combed and neat, not smelling like his trash dump of a room. And not a whiff of smoke! i’d honestly not have been surprised if he’d snuck in some ciggies in but if he had, they must have confiscated em quick.    No fags in the Helping House! I mean-! oh you know, what i mean!

But this one,.. they all dressed in clothes from home, apparently they worked out its better for the process, this one was a mess. Half shaved hair, no knees in the jeans and honestly, sunglasses indoors? who did He think he was!? Mick Jagger?  He just slouched in the corner of the visiting room, looking out into the gardens, like he belonged there in that clean good place.  They were nice gardens, well looked after, like the kids. I remember it was coming up summer, lots of lovely flowers. lots of happy bees.

Anyway, i did Not like how Ben looked over at, him, while we had our cups of tea. it was this, gooey soft look i’d never seen on him. later i remembered it. it was how his dad looked when we started courting. That cloying honey sweet love that turned sickly and choking far too quick. God, that look, on my boys face? You bet I had words with the staff before i went. I did not bring my boy here to get help and it be ruined by some hooligan with warped intentions. I made sure they understood. They didn't seem to know what i meant by the Sunglasses kid but it’s a big facility, probably get a lot of patients. Their success rate was incredible really, always seemed to be spaces open. Whatever they did, didn’t do a lot though. Cause i kept seeing him, every time i visited. And he drew a crowd.       At first it was the ones who didn’t have family to come, poor dears. They’d be sat, close as they could to him. They had rules about touching in the Helping House, and rightly so, helps with, the temptation, but they’d sit there, close as they could to him, just listening, sun on their faces from the big glass window.  Now that i’m thinking about it, I don’t think i remember ‘em blinking?    Anyway, Could never hear what was said, what venom that creeper was pouring into their ears, whenever i tried to hear him over the other visitors, it just came over as a low buzz. Well, whatever it was, those kids were hooked.  I didn't like it. And the next weekend, there more of ‘em! You’d have kids that’d be crying one week that their family hadn't come, who didn't give two shits the next, pardon my french. They’d be sat in the corner, happy sappy faces, listening to whatever nonsense that kid was murmuring to his little flock. They didn’t touch, not then, but it was a close thing, i remember being so shocked that nothing was being done about it. It was obviously a problem. that weirdo was the problem.

But my boy didn’t stray. He might’ve looked over at that hive of idiots who worked against what these good people were trying to do for them, with that… look. But he stayed and drank his tea with me like he should. He looked tired, but i knew that’s cause he was working hard, getting better.  i got the reports.

But the last couple of visits, i come in and it’s just my boy in the visitors room.   The rest were outside in the garden, in the flowers. All those kids, twenty or so of em, tangled in each other, touching and so close. I don’t think they were, Doing things but, it was against regulation for sure,  and I stood up, to go do something, anything, even just yell at them to stop it, ask what they thought they were doing!? That’s when the Buzzing started. For a second i thought it was just a bee come in from the garden, poor little bumble trapped indoors but it was in my ears, in my head. It was nothing i’d ever felt before and I’ve had Tinitus and that’s a nasty bugger but it was more than that.

Been to the doctors since. Apparently they can’t work it out, whats causing it. All they can say was it wasn’t Tinitus.

I think it was, Sunglasses looking at me. I remember when i got up, to tell ‘em off, i remember light in the corner of my eye, like a reflection off glass. I think he turned, he knew i was going to stop em and he-

Last sunday was the last time, the last visit. Had a big tin of biscuits, gingerbread, Ben’s favourite, had some nice news about his cousin getting into uni, first in the family! Always had hopes Ben would be the second, but-  Ben wasn’t waiting for me. He was outside. With Them.

Him.

There he was, holding the hand of that freak and the staff were just stood round like numpty’s doing nothing! Dumb faces and vacant as their patients were outside rolling about in the sun like it was the 60’s! And smoking! I thought, they must’ve found a stash cause i could see the smoke, swirling dark against the sky, dark against their smiling, stupid faces.

I was furious. i was, so angry.

I think thats why i did it. I was so angry that i couldn’t think of anything else to do but grab that sunglasses wearing freak who was corrupting my boy, who was holding his hand and steering him wrong and undoing all my work and love, and shake my anger out of him. I was yelling all that, yelling at him. I remember he was light, not as heavy as he should be, not for a kid his age and that he didn’t flinch. And he spoke to me, in that low drone that I thought had been just distance and space distorting his voice, but was just him, god it was just him.

I cant remember exactly what he said, something about love, real love, some hippy nonsense. No, i remember one thing. The little shit asked if i thought i was ‘my child’s real Family.” ‘Of course, i said, ‘i’m his mother’ Then he smiled, like i was wrong and i hated him. And I could see myself, in that dark reflection, in those stupid shades and i couldn’t stand it.   I wish i hadn’t, done what i did. i just didn’t want to see myself in that black mirror anymore, all twisted and hateful.   Turns out it was far nicer than what was behind them.

I let go, dropped it, that thing in ripped jeans and stripes and it fell into the flowers. There were so many happy bees. Thats when i heard the other kids. They had it’s voice, shared it’s voice, that drone. That buzz. i didn’t dare look at them. My ears, started up again, like before but, that sound, their sound, it made it louder and i honestly thought my head might explode and I turn to Ben, my boy, who had dropped to his knees in front of that thing, holding it’s hand and for a second, I thought he was smoking again, dark wisps coming from his downturned face and, I just, my fear turned to anger, for just a second, that he would do that here and now.

But I begged him to come away, to leave it alone, to get better, to just be my little boy again, to come home with mummy. Then he looked up, my Ben, and his face-   it wasn’t smoke, it had never been smoke. it was the same as whatever had been bumbling around in the creature that still lay in the flowers but Ben smiled all the same. I, feel crazy, crazy saying it but- as the bees poured out of my little boy’s smiling mouth in that choking swarm, their buzzing droning out his words, my boys last-

My name is Sarah

i’d never seen him happier.

Apparently I fainted. Never fainted in my life, i’ll tell you, too tough for that sort of thing, but i must’ve. Police think it’s what saved me. I like to think otherwise.   Officially, what happened was that the patients turned on the staff, killed em and left. Simple, explainable. Some sicko’s like to use what happened as an argument against conversion therapy, old hippy dykes that don’t have enough to picket over, idiots.  They didn’t see the bodies, they didn’t see what those ‘helpless victims’ did- They dragged them outside after they killed em, into the sun, into the flowers. I remember waking up once, amongst all the dead. Happy bees, dipping their beaks into the blood of the doctors. Plenty of sugar in blood, I read.

Ben was all i had left, my only family. I don’t have no one left. You don’t get many visitor when the papers insist you made your kid a killer. Don’t even get phone calls from Dave anymore, but i call that blessing. He was barely Ben’s dad anyway. I’ve gotten used to the quiet. i go to work, i come home, watch a bit of telly. the buzz from the old tv only scares me a little. I know i did my best for him. i believe that, after everything. I wouldn’t be here though, if, there wasn’t, something else.

 I had a visitor the yesterday. Wasn’t expecting it, thought it was a missionary, Jehovah’s or something. Was ready to tell them to piss off, i tell you. It was a girl. Said she was my daughter. she looked like my Ben, same smile, same funny little knees he used to scrape up, ones i used to kiss better. It wasn’t Ben. My Ben had eyes. My daughters words buzzed, like there was something in her throat. Perhaps the same things that crawled where her eyes would be, round and yellow and bumbling, i thought, and my head starting hurting again. She only stayed at the door, didn’t come in. She said she just wanted to say hello.

She said she’ll visit again.

That she’ll bring her family.

i don’t think she means me anymore.’ The magnus archives belongs to Rusty Quill, the above belongs to me!